Nothing But A Whisper
by daemanals
Summary: Happiness and hope are fragile things. They can come as easily as they go and disappear without a reason. They can keep a person hanging on, searching, or they can lead them to their end."
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The wizarding world had fallen from grace. Broken refrains of hope and shattered glory were all that remained. The streets of Diagon Alley, once loud and cheerful lay solemn and grey. The halls of Hogwarts were bloodied, the echo of screams resounding eternally within them. A permanent grey fog encased places once full of life, throwing all that was once happy into never-ending despair. All those who remained were nothing more than whispers, hollow bodies following a habitual motion, void of the person they had once been.

The war had ended. After long, dark years, a victor had risen to end all the suffering at last. But at what price? The wizarding world had defeated what they labeled as 'evil' but now they clung to mere scraps of the past. So many had perished, so many had suffered, and the true wealth of their world had been lost.

Those that walked the Ministry of Magic tried their best to lead, but they were not leaders. The schools tried desperately to teach, but the professors could hardly still consider themselves knowledgeable, and the children who had seen such a war we're far from innocent students. The wizarding world was nothing but a carcass of what it had once been. As far as many were concerned, their world was fading into an abyss.

After Voldemort wormed his way into the Ministry, death and persecution became a daily occurrence. Those that rose up to challenge him soon found their eternal slumber. Light fought Dark, Dark killed Light—mercilessly and without end. Those that once called themselves 'good' were changed forever as blood soiled their hands. As loved ones continued to fall, it became harder and harder to find something worth fighting for. Even Voldemort's followers found themselves in a constant state of fear and questioned the fight. The thought of just letting death's sweat caress take them away from this hell on Earth was one that permeated both sides of the war.

Finally, The Chosen One had ended it all in a grueling fight that took the lives of nearly every member of the Order of the Phoenix. But even as he raised the flaming sword above him, enemies continued to swoop down and death followed for months after. It wasn't until the last loyal follower admitted defeat that the sun broke free on the bleak horizon. The world on which it shed light, however, was nothing but an empty shell of a world long gone; one that it was hard at times to believe had ever been real.

So it was in this dismal state that the Boy-Who-Lived took up the position of Minister of Magic and filled the Ministry with whoever remained and was willing. He was not a political person and his heart was never in it. He brooded day after day, blaming himself for every life lost, longing for friends he watched die before his eyes, and praying for hope to come.

The wizarding world was weeping for generations of good men and women buried in the rubble or war. The reconstruction on Diagon Alley and Hogwarts and all the other places touched by battle had begun, but it would take much more to rebuild the hearts of those who remained. For, when you have stood on the precipice of death and walked through the depths of Hades, it is impossible to emerge on the other side unscathed.

Happiness and hope are fragile things. They can come as easily as they go and disappear without a reason. They can keep a person hanging on, searching, or they can lead them to their end. They will taunt you and hurt you and yet you will keep looking for them, desperately wanted them. They were two words which most people had learned to live without, simply holding on, hoping the next generation of wizards and witches would rise above the ruins to create a better future.

And it was in this dark corner of the universe that Ginny woke every morning, sighed at her reflection in the mirror, and left for work without a single expectation that life would ever get any better, having long ago become a part of the abyss surrounding her.


	2. Chapter 1

'_**Until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in these two words,--'Wait & Hope.' **_

_**-Alexandre Dumas (The Count of Monte Cristo)**_

"Here are those papers you wanted, Harry. And Zabini will be here at eleven to go over the week's schedule with you."

Harry followed the weak, hollow voice and to the girl standing in front of his desk, setting a small stack of papers in the corner, keeping them away from the clutter where they would inevitably get lost. Her shoulder-length red curls framed her face, almost hiding her gaunt cheekbones and tired eyes. The vibrancy had long abandoned her brown eyes and the sunbathed freckles dotting her face had faded. He sighed and set down his pen, crossing his arms over his chest and waited for her to meet his gaze.

"Thank you, Ginny. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The corners of her lips turned upwards ever so slightly. "That's why you gave me the job, Harry."

He chuckled. "You mean _begged _you to do it." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. The Boy-Who-Lived, the savior of the wizarding world, was tired. He didn't care for politics and if it wasn't for his advisor, Blaise Zabini, he would have already run the wizarding community into the ground. But it was an encouraging word from Ginny that kept him going every day and kept him from tumbling into the chasm of despair, on whose edge he had teetered for so long now. Ever since the war had ended nearly two years ago, he had struggled to pick up the pieces of his life, as had everyone else. The loss of not only Dumbledore, but Lupin and his best friends had been a very heavy weight to bear.

He reached out and grasped Ginny's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew he was not the only one suffering. Ginny had lost everything; not only the Burrow, but all of her family as well. Only Charlie remained, hiding himself away in Romania, trying to escape the pain that encircled the wizarding world.

"Is there anything else you need, Har—Minister?" She bowed her head to avoid his gaze, and slowly wiggled her hand from his grasp. The war had put an end to whatever sort of relationship had been building between Harry and Ginny before he had left Hogwarts. They had always remained close, a support system in the darkest hours, and—Harry admitted—they had sought each other out on occasion when the need to have something solid arose. There had been many difficult times over the four years of the war where they had found comfort and security in each other's arms, in each other's beds, but as the war ended, so did their relationship. Ginny needed a brother now, a boss, and most importantly, someone to look out for her.

"No, that will be all for now, Miss Weasley," he replied, mocking her formality. Ginny merely nodded and headed for the door. "Gin," he called. She turned around, waiting for instruction.

"Yes? Did you forget something?"

Harry stood and made his way over to her, placing his hand on the side of her head. "Just the last time I saw you smile. Are you doing okay, Ginny?"

She forced a small smile onto her face and nodded. "I'm fine, Harry." He raised his eyebrows. She sighed and resigned, "well, just as fine as everyone else."

Harry reached up and placed his lips against her temple before he released her and retreated back to his desk. Ginny quickly fled the room, closing the door behind her. Glancing up at the click of the door, Harry sent a silent prayer heavenwards, hoping, like he did every day, that someone somewhere would send them a miracle.

More than anything, Ginny hated appearing weak. She settled into her desk and shoved her hand into the top drawer, retrieving her mirror. She pulled it up before her and stared into the glass pane. _God, Gin, you look like death warmed over._

Reaching up, she tried to pat down some curls that had gone astray and tucked her hair behind her ears. She grabbed her foundation from her purse and tried to cover up the bags under her eyes. When she was done she noted unhappily that there wasn't much improvement. She still looked like a damsel in distress, and of course Harry would see it as his job to save her.

Ginny tucked the mirror back in the drawer and glanced out across the hall. Sunlight was filtering in through the tall windows onto the marble floor. However, even the blue skies outside did little to lift her mood. She had dreamed about them last night. She had been back at the Burrow, surrounded by her family, laughing and arguing. And then a great shadow had engulfed the house and she had watched them burn one at a time until she was the only one left standing, screaming in the black smoke, unable to produce a sound. She had awoken in a sweat and had not been able to fall back asleep.

She rifled through a pile on her desk and pulled out a letter, its edges furling, rereading it for the twentieth time this week.

_Dearest Ginny,_

_I hope that this letter finds you well. I'm sorry I have not written much, but work keeps me busy. Or perhaps it is simply that I keep myself busy with work. The days pass in a fog and it is so hard to pull myself from the monotony. At least there, I can escape. At least there, I do not have to think. Do you think about them often? I do all the time. I think about the Burrow at Christmas, Mum cooking in the kitchen, Dad experimenting with some muggle contraction, and Fred and George testing out their newest product on poor Bill or Ron. I can see you sitting by the fire, reading a book. Sometimes I even see Harry there playing chess with Ron and Hermione scolding them both. My memories are filled with their faces. So you can understand why I do not like to think, why I prefer just to lose myself in my work. _

_But I get the feeling that I am not alone, my dearest sister. Harry has written to me. He is concerned for you. I cannot be one to talk, nor can he for that matter, for we all died a little during the war. In fact, I do not think you are so different from anyone else. But Ginny, I cannot help but remember how you used to smile and laugh. How you were so full of fire and spirit. You are my baby sister, and even if the whole world suffers, I don't want you to be sad. So please Ginny,__ try to find the fight in you._

_I am coming to stay with you for Christmas and I hope by then, there will be some light back in your eyes. Try your best, love, to find some hope and happiness in this dark time. I know it is not easy, but you are so young and you were once so optimistic and full of life. If you do this, I promise you that I too will make an effort to move on; to stop living with the memory of those who are gone and to start living with their love. Remember how they loved us Ginny and how they would not want us to be unhappy. Live for them, Gin, and live for yourself._

_Love your brother,_

_Charlie_

Ginny put the letter back in its place, propped her head up on her hands, and watched the people in the hallway through the large, glass door. "Hope was something I once lived on. It was what killed everything. It is the reason I am still here and they are not. I do not care much for hope anymore, Charlie."


	3. Chapter 2

'_**Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.'**_

_**-Roger C. Anderson**_

The meeting room was sweltering in the late August sun. The windows were cracked open and the humidity was seeping through. Everyone had removed their cloaks and the men had loosened their ties. The slow drum of faraway traffic was the only sound in the silent chamber and it unnerved him.

Draco Malfoy leaned back in the tall leather chair and yanked his tie from his neck. His blonde hair hung loose around his face and his grey eyes surveyed the room. Everyone was waiting for him to speak.

"With all due respect, Minister, I cannot agree to let some of my men go."

Harry sighed and put his arms on the table, leaning forward. "Malfoy, I am not asking you to fire them, I simply want to move a few from your department around. The ministry is still short-staffed and there are areas which are struggling to get their work done. We really need to redistribute the manpower."

"I understand your reasons perfectly, Minister." Draco tried to keep the caustic tone from his voice, but he still found it difficult after all this time to use such a title of respect for someone whose name he used to spit out of his mouth as though he had eaten something foul. "But I am asking you to reconsider. My men are fighters, defenders. They are Aurors, not pencil-pushers."

"I am perfectly aware of their capabilities; I am not trying to undermine them. But at this time, your department is bigger than many of the others and…."

Draco knew what Harry was avoiding saying. He smirked and finished the sentence, "and our services aren't needed."

"I'm not saying that."

Draco sat up straight and leveled Harry with an icy regard. "But that it is exactly what you are insinuating. Just because the war is over, Minister, doesn't mean my men are not needed. Crime rate is on the rise again, especially since so many areas are still susceptible and unsecure, and my men truly have their hands full. Maybe you do not view our work as vital, but I assure you that the people do."

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and reached up to run his hand through his hair, pushing his glasses up. "I am not suggesting that you or your Aurors are unnecessary."

Before Draco could reply, Zabini cut him off. "Draco, it is merely the fact that the ministry is still enormously understaffed. I myself proposed the reassignment of several of your Aurors to the Minister. I think that their skills and their experience with the population could be useful to some of the other departments. It would not be a permanent move I assure you."

Draco leaned back; he could feel defeat on the horizon. It was a fact that the ministry was in dire straits. Most people working there worked more than fifty or sixty hours a week. There was still much to be done even two years after the war. The reconstruction physically, economically, socially, and even emotionally of the wizarding world was exhausting work for them all. They were stretched to their limits. But Draco could not resign any of his men to the fate of paperwork and running errands. They were adventurers who thirsted to be on the front line, solving cases and using their knowledge and capabilities against those who used magic unwisely. Many of them came from death eater families, 'dark' families, and knew better than anyone what magic was capable of. It was also for this reason that Draco did not want them put under the command of someone who might kick them around because of their past.

"I will make the proposition to my men and see if anyone is willing to help out the other departments _temporarily_."

Harry rubbed his tired eyes and snapped the folder in front of him shut. "Ask and see if any are willing. However, this is not a suggestion anymore, Malfoy, it is an order. We will be shifting some of your men around." He stood and began to gather his things. "If they don't volunteer, I will leave you to select those that will be reassigned. That is all for today." And with that Harry left the room, Blaise in his wake.

Draco pursed his lips in displeasure, unmoving, as the others gathered their things around him and began to leave the room. He was not going to send his men off to be used as cattle by some goody-goody ministry member who had hid behind their desk throughout the war. Draco stood, hung his tie loosely around his neck, shrugged on his cloak, and gathered up his things. It was time to speak to the Minister—_alone_.

* * *

Ginny looked up curiously as the door opened. Harry was in his office and Blaise had departed moments ago. She glanced back down at the schedule quickly, but Harry had no other appointments today. Frowning, she looked up again, only to find a tall, disgruntled blonde staring down at her. She held back an exclamation of surprise.

It had been awhile since Ginny had seen Draco Malfoy. And, even though he was in charge of the Aurors, he had never come to Harry's office before, so Ginny had scarcely laid eyes on him in two years. He had grown even taller and broader since Hogwarts. The lines on his face were hard and definite, his slate eyes dominating his pale face. He wore his hair loose now, not gelled back like before, and it brushed the top of his ears. Yes, war had changed Draco Malfoy too, _but,_ Ginny thought guiltily,_ in a good way._

She closed her eyes, silently scolding herself, and pursed her lips. When she opened them again to meet Draco's they were hard. "Malfoy, what can I do for you?"

Draco began to smirk now, his eyes slowly and shamelessly inspecting her. "Weasley…it's been a while."

She pulled herself up straighter and tried to ignore his scrutiny. Sure, she too had changed since Hogwarts. She was taller, thicker in all the right places, and she knew she was beautiful enough to make a man look twice. She cleared her throat and asked again what she could do for him.

"I'm here to see Potter. It's urgent."

"You don't have an appointment." Ginny pointed to the book in front of her. Draco didn't reply, merely continued to stare at her. A flame of her old animosity for him sparked within her and she crossed her arms over her chest, returning his stare defiantly. "You need an appointment to see the Minister, he's a busy man you know."

"Yes, I'm aware. However, I am head of the Auror department and this is important business." He put his palms flat against the desk and leaned forward, a smirk still on his face as though he were taunting her.

She sighed nonchalantly. "I know exactly who you are, Malfoy. The Minister is busy so you'll have to come back another time, although, as I've already said, he is usually busy, so making an appointment would be your best bet. Now…." She picked up her pen again and began moving things around on her desk, intending to get back to work and wait for Malfoy to leave.

Draco, however, seemed to know exactly what she was doing and did not agree to this plan. He reached out and grabbed her hand with the pen firmly in his. "Ginevra Weasley, you didn't actually plan on ignoring me, did you?"

Ginny wrenched her hand from his and stood up behind her desk. "I expected you to act appropriate of your rank and leave once I had dismissed you. I have told you, Malfoy, the Minister is busy and he cannot see you right now."

"It's alright, Ginny, let him in." They both turned to see Harry in the doorway of his office. Their voices had drawn his attention. He opened his door wider and motioned for Malfoy to enter. Draco gave Ginny one last parting glance and a small smirk before he entered the office. Harry continued to look at Ginny, a small smile on his face.

"What?" she barked.

Harry chuckled. "I should have known it would take a Malfoy to get a little fire back into you." Then he retreated back into the office and closed the door behind him. Ginny merely rolled her eyes, settled back into her seat, sent one more glare towards the door, and got back to work.

**Author's Note:** So, it has been a long four years since I've written any fanfic, but the need to write was just too overwhelming and when you've got a plot bunny well... So if anyone is out there reading this, i would really love a review to know how i'm doing! xxx Als


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Thank you to all the wonderful reviewers! **cuddlebear992 **(thank you for the wonderful review and sworn devotion, i'm still blushing at your words), **scentasia, lucygirl07, and darinmeg.** You're reviews made my week!

Nothing too exciting in this chapter, but the build-up is necessary and we'll be getting to more exciting things soon! So, read, review, and enjoy!

'_**He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance, one cannot fly into flying.'**_

_**-Friedrich Nietzsche**_

Harry sat back in his chair, pondering Malfoy's argument. He was surprised to see Draco's concern for his men; it seemed he was genuinely worried for their discontentment and possible mistreatment if they were moved around. This had not been, as Harry had originally assumed, because of his pride. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, studying Malfoy, who was waiting patiently and unconcerned for his reply.

"I never meant to suggest that your work was unimportant before. You know that I myself wanted to be an Auror." Harry leaned forward again, propping his arms on his desk. "But this is my only solution, Malfoy. The workforce in general is struggling as it is, you know, with the—"Harry struggled to find the right word"—size of the current population and my people are being overworked. However, I feel your concern is genuine and I must admit it surprises me."

His companion smirked. "Surprised that I would care for my men, Potter? I admit that perhaps I have done things in my life that leave you with a rather ill opinion of me. But I would think that in the war you realized that people are not always what they seem."

"I admit that it was obvious you regretted being involved with the Death Eaters and that you did your best to _help_ us, if that's the right word, without putting yourself at risk. During the battles I saw you in, you only raised your wand to defend yourself and I can think of a few occasions where your actions saved somebody's life. I think I always knew, Malfoy, that you did not want what your father did for you. But just because you were not Death Eater material, doesn't mean you are not a Slytherin, for that you most certainly are. And yes, you were horrible at Hogwarts to everyone so the fact that you care about your employees does pleasantly surprise me."

Draco studied Harry for a moment before nodding in agreement. "After my father's capture, it was important for my family to save face. We were being ridiculed and I had to make every effort to keep us in the good graces of high society, _our_ society. Whether or not I wanted to be a Death Eater was of little importance."

"I know. And it is for this reason that you and your mother were not punished, along with many of the other Slytherins who did not truly participate, but simply had no choice."

Draco nodded but said nothing more. He had never once uttered a word of thank you to Harry for defending him and keeping him and his mother from Azkaban after the war. Nor for giving him his current position after having admitted that Draco was most eligible. But the way in which Draco acknowledged Harry as 'Minister' and the way in which he performed his job with fervency was, what Harry assumed, a Malfoy 'thank you.'

"I will make you a deal then. I will shift two of the workers from my staff to the departments in dire need, for the jobs will not be much different from what they do now. However, I still need you to choose one of your Aurors to then come help my office with their work or I need you, yourself, to help out my staff, Malfoy."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Me? You want me to help you with your sodding paperwork?"

Harry nodded. "That is unless you want to subject one of your men to it. My staff is quite competent and I'm sure with a few hours' help from you every week they can survive the loss."

Draco narrowed his eyes a bit at this suggestion. He wasn't keen on the idea of overtime, especially when he already worked harder than he ever had in his life. However, to be honest, he planned to keep his inherited family fortune growing and he really didn't have anything better to do. Besides, if this helped put him in Potter's good books and helped him gain power within the Ministry, he would be willing to do it.

He stood slowly, Harry following his lead. "You have yourself a deal, Minister. Just tell me when to report and I will happy help your little…yuppies with their paperwork." He stuck out his hand and Harry grasped it firmly.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Malfoy."

* * *

Ginny arrived at the office early Monday morning, her coffee in one hand and Harry's in the other. She dropped her briefcase off next to her desk before gathering the coffees and heading into Harry's office. He was already in there, his head bent over paperwork on his desk.

"We're too young to work this hard, Harry," she said as she laid his coffee down in front of him. He put his pen on the desk and picked up the coffee cup, taking a grateful sip.

"You are a lifesaver, Gin," he said as the hot, bitter drink slid down his throat. "I hate to have to ask you to work a little longer these next few months, but I'm afraid I must. I've moved Celia and Gilbert to other departments for awhile."

"Oh?" Ginny looked down at him surprised.

Harry set his coffee down and sighed, wrinkling his nose. "We're struggling, Gin. We're reconstructing not only the country but our relations with other countries and we just don't have the manpower. But don't worry, I've got someone who is going to come in and help you out."

"Oh, Harry, that's not necessary, I can handle it."

Harry snorted. "Ginny, you are amazing, and I don't doubt your capabilities. You keep my life and my office organized. Without you, nothing would get done. But you cannot take up the work of two people and even if you could I wouldn't ask it of you. You would never leave the office! You wouldn't have a life!"

Ginny bowed her head and blushed. "It's not like I have anything to do apart from work anyway."

Harry clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Ginny, you were the one that just said we work too hard for our age. Shouldn't you be going out with friends at night or…going on dates?"

A moment of awkward silence held the room in limbo. "Harry, I like working. And you are always here, so I could say the exact same thing to you."

"Ginny, I'm the Minister of Magic without absolutely no credentials for it. Of course I work all the time."

She reached out and touched his hand. "And when you're working, I feel guilty if I'm not right alongside of you."

"Regardless," Harry said, "I won't ask you to take up all the extra work on your own. You'll have a helper; you just have to instruct him what to do. He should be in around six every night. Sorry to have to ask you to put in long nights. But I promise, I won't take your weekends from you."

She stifled a giggle. "Honestly, I don't mind at all. I like working. Do I know who I'll be working with?"

Harry returned his gaze guiltily to his desk. He took his cup of coffee back into his hands and took a long sip to buy him some time. Ginny would kill him but Harry wanted to help Malfoy out and, he must admit, that when he suggested it to Draco he was thinking that maybe it would help put some spark back into Ginny. If there was one thing that could rile a Weasley's temper, it was certainly a Malfoy.

"You'll see when he gets here tonight. Now, go on, I've got work to do and so do you."

Ginny frowned a bit at Harry's vague reply but let herself be shooed out of the room and back to her desk. Harry watched her go, the smirk of a Slytherin gracing his lips and the guilty turning of a Gryffindor in his stomach.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Thank you again, my reviewers! Yay, I love reviews :). Well here is another lovely chappie, 100% Draco & Ginny. Also, I uploaded a one-shot the other day as inspiration struck and could not be ignored. Check it out if you have time! And now, read, review, and enjoy.

'_**What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight—it's the size of the fight in the dog.'**_

_**-Dwight D. Eisenhower**_

Two shiny, black shoes invaded her peripheral vision. The man who had entered shifted and placed his briefcase down next to her desk. Ginny didn't move, she was still furiously scribbling away, trying to finish the document she'd spent the past afternoon preparing before dealing with this 'helper' Harry had sent her, who would no doubt be incompetent and probably end up causing more trouble than he was worth.

"Reporting for duty, Weasley."

Her quill stopped mid-letter as the condescending voice reached her ears. Oh yes, he was definitely going to be trouble for Ginny. She set her quill back in the ink jar and turned her eyes slowly upward to the ever-present smirk on Malfoy's face. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, obviously awaiting her response. Ginny took her time, studying him, thinking. He was dressed in all black, from his undershirt to his tie to those shiny damned shoes. His grey eyes were sparkling with interest at her slow, calculated inspection and his smirk deepened. _Harry is dead,_ she thought furiously.

"You're my helper?"

He gave a small, cynical chuckle. "Glad you decided to join the conversation. Potter didn't tell you it was me?" He paused a moment but as soon as she opened her mouth to answer, he continued, "Just tell me what I need to do, Weasley."

"Wh—why you?" she spit out.

He bent over until he was inches from her face, looking her dead in the eye. "Because torturing weasels is the best way to spend one's free time."

Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. He straightened out and began shrugging off his suit jacket. "Not that you deserve the pleasure of working with me, naturally," he tossed out casually.

Ginny snapped to her senses and cleared her throat. "I've put everything that needs done tonight in that pile there"—she indicated a large stack of parchment, teetering on the corner of her desk—"so feel free to get started. I've got to finish up something before I can help you. That is, if you want a weasel's help."

Draco had been investigating the stack but turned back to her with an indescribable look on his face, halfway between amused and shocked. "Will you look at that, the littlest Weasley's grown claws."

Ginny tugged her head back down to look at the document in front of her, fighting the sudden tears brimming in the corner of her eyes. "I'm not the littlest Weasley anymore, Malfoy," she whispered hotly. "I'm the only Weasley."

She expected him to reply, but was met with silence. Malfoy instead settled himself in the chair on the other side of her desk, pulled a quill and jar of ink from his briefcase, and began rifling through the pile of papers she had indicated earlier. Grateful, Ginny turned back to her document, successfully keeping the unwanted tears from sliding down her cheeks. She hated appearing weak, especially in front of a Malfoy.

* * *

They had worked in silence for more than an hour when Draco threw down his quill and stretched his arms behind his head. He yawned and reached up to ruffle his hair. His stomach gave a low rumble and he looked down at it with a frown.

"I'm hungry," he finally stated. When his remark solicited no reply from his companion, he narrowed her eyes at her figure, hunched over the desk, working away frantically. Slowly, he got out of his chair and reached for his jacket, slipping back into it. He snaked his way over to the redhead quietly and when he was a foot from her, he reached down, grabbed her elbow, and yanked her to her feet.

"Ow! Malfoy, what in the wor—"

"I'm hungry, Weaslette. Surely even slave-driver Potter allows a tea break." He gave her a quick smile and began towards the door, pulling her behind him. She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but her futile efforts simply made him chuckle.

"Malfoy, let go of me." He stopped just before the door and she wiggled from his grasp. "We have a lot of work to do, Malfoy, we can't just go skipping off for a picnic." Ginny gave him a determined look and had begun heading back to her desk when her stomach rumbled. Draco's knowing smirk increased as she slowly and guiltily turned back around.

"You still have to eat, Weasel, even your body knows that." Reaching out, he thrust the door forward, holding it open for her. She hesitated. "The paperwork will still be here when we get back and I doubt you have any exciting social life you're running off to tonight." _Lord knows I have nothing better to do,_ he thought. He closed his eyes at the pathetic thought. _Hence why I'm having dinner with a Weasley…._

Ginny teetered for a moment before throwing up her hands in frustration. She retrieved her purse from the desk and made her way through the door.

Unfortunately, Ginny took them to a Muggle café near the Ministry, despite Draco's evil glares. He watched as she sat herself comfortably in a corner booth and ordered two glasses of water from the waiter. Slowly, Draco slid into the seat opposite her, a murderous look on his face.

"Come here often do you?"

She finally looked up at him and he saw her cover a smile with her hand. "You don't have to look so pained, Malfoy. It's a nice place, close to the office, and the food is good and cheap."

"Cheap," he scoffed. She pursed her lips and quirked an eyebrow at him, willing him to continue. As much as Malfoy loved to fire her up, he desperately wanted some food in his stomach before she tried to Bat-Bogey hex him, so he said nothing further.

Halfway through a meal of silence, Draco lay down his fork, curious to see how time and war had changed the girl in front of him. He wanted to know if she still had that dangerous spark of energy in her, the temper he could so easily ignite, the one he was dying to provoke in her tonight. Ginny seemed to have noticed he had stopped eating because she set down her fork and regarded him wearily.

"What?" she said finally, breaking the silence.

"It just amazes me, Weaslette, that even after all these years you're still following Potter around like a lost little puppy. That is why you're working for him, isn't it? Because you're still hopelessly in love with the sodding Boy-Who-Lived." He watched as her cheeks reddened and her lips grew thinner, inwardly smiling at his quick triumph.

Ginny, however, didn't seem to take the bait. "Yes, Malfoy, how clever you are." She picked her fork back up and began to eat again. Draco was not pleased by her sarcastic remark. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, waiting until she curiously met his eyes again.

"Don't you ever feel pathetic? It was understandable when you were younger and he was your brother's best friend. But honestly, Weasley, even Potter isn't that daft. If he was interested, he would have already taken up the offer. You should move on to greener pastures."

Her eyes narrowed. She slowly set her fork on her plate again and nudged it away. "I'm curious as to why you care, Malfoy? Maybe I'm in love with Harry and maybe I'm not, but really it is no concern of yours." When he merely scoffed, she continued, "Why are you helping me with my paperwork anyway? I doubt Harry could have made you do it, so why?"

"For the simple pleasure of watching you squirm being near to me." He smirked and leaned even closer to her. "What is it that repulses you about me? I, for one, can't find any bad quality that I possess."

She let out a laugh and leaned forward, determined. "Everything repulses me when it comes to you, Malfoy. Hell, even your name alone makes me want to vomit." The lines on his face hardened and she seemed to notice. "Oh, struck a nerve? Perhaps I've popped that ego of yours?"

And then Draco smiled. She thought she had him, so he let her simmer for a moment, wondering why he was smiling when she had just dealt him what she considered a low blow. "I cannot possibly take your opinion seriously, Weasley, when I look at your taste in men. If you find Potter attractive in the slightest, then I'm quite happy that you find me repulsive."

Her small smile of glory faded. She slid out of the booth and tossed some money on the table. "We have paperwork to do." She started past him and stopped just before she was out of his earshot. "Harry is ten times the man you could ever aspire to be, Malfoy. He saved your arse from Azkaban when a lesser man would have gladly let you be locked away. Perhaps you should remember that."

He heard the bell of the door chime as she exited. Standing, he tossed his portion of the bill on the table and made his way, fuming, back to the office, promising himself the whole way that Weaslette would lose this battle she had just started between them.

* * *

**Review Review Review =)**


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay guys - school, waiting for my muse to bite, and all that. I know they're rather short chappies, but I like them this way and they always tend to have a nice break circa 1300 words lol. We're going to be picking up the pace now and I am looking forward to where this story takes us. Special thanks to all my reviewers, I love getting reviews more than anything, so keep them up and thank you all! As always, Read, Review, and Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Sorry I've forgotten to put this. Naturally, I own nothing of Harry Potter in reality. In my fantasies however, Draco Malfoy is completely and undeniably mine.

"_**Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box."**_

The rest of the week passed in unnerving silence. Malfoy would come promptly at six, take half of the papers and get to work, and the two would munch on a dinner they had packed, neither daring to take a tea break again. Ginny grew restless and impatient. The silence was profitable, but the fact that Malfoy didn't make a single comment—not even when she spilled hot coffee all over herself and the paperwork they'd spent hours doing—had her very _very_ worried.

Pulling her eyes off of the letter before her, she watched the blonde meticulously copying a form, the swishes of his pen graceful and precise. Ginny narrowed her eyes, willing him to look up, to give her a smirk, a glare. A minute passed and Malfoy continued his work, unfazed. She sighed and slumped back, trying to think of ways to provoke him into saying something; this silence was tense and bothersome. Ginny was just about to open her mouth when the door swung open. She closed it quickly, mentally reprimanding herself for attempting to get conversation out of a Malfoy. No matter how bored she was, that was stooping low.

"Here you are, Sir." The soft, thick voice pulled her from her self-loathing to the young man that had joined them. His broad frame was bent over Malfoy's desk, chatting with his superior and pointing to something in a folder he had just brought in. Ginny watched with open curiosity, studying Malfoy's authoritative manner, her papers forgotten.

"That will be all, Schuman," Draco ordered swiftly, taking the folder and putting it into his briefcase. The man turned around and Ginny's pen clattered to her desk.

The young Auror was beyond fit. His broad shoulders complemented his muscular build. He was tall—taller than Draco—with arms that looked like they had been carved from marble. Shaggy brown hair was pulled back into a short, low pony at the nape of his neck and startling blue eyes shone beneath long, thick lashes. But it was his dimpled, toothy smile, directed right at Ginny, which had her gasping for breath.

The Auror didn't move, didn't break eye contact with her; he just continued standing and staring. Suddenly, Ginny found herself becoming very self-conscious. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her like that. She felt a red blush creep up her cheeks and she quickly broke eye contact, burying her burning face beneath a veil of red curls.

"Captain, may I ask who your charming companion is?" Ginny groaned; even his accent made her hot and clammy.

She could almost her Malfoy roll his eyes. "Ginny Weasley."

She looked up, meeting both of their gazes embarrassedly and nodding a greeting. Then he started for her. Reaching the desk, he extended a hand. She placed her pale hand in his large, bronzed one and watched in awe as he brought it up to his lips.

"Enchanté, Miss Weasley. I am Gabriel Schuman, I work for Draco." He eyed her curiously, shamelessly studying her face and making a sweep down her body before he released her hand and straightened himself. He turned back to Malfoy, made his excuses, and left the office, leaving a very flustered Ginny in his wake.

* * *

Draco watched as Weasley struggled to regain her composure. She reached for her pen and the pile of papers she'd been working on, waving the latter to cool down her burning face. She was avoiding his gaze, no doubt aware that he was witnessing her girlish, love-struck behavior. Draco smiled inwardly.

Gabriel Schuman wasn't his smartest Auror, but he was by far the best looking member of the department; a part from himself, of course. This thought caused Draco's now visible grin to falter slightly. Soon, he was scowling, his gaze still trained on Ginny as she obviously tried to sort through her own thoughts.

Why had the Weaslette never been that flustered over him? Granted, they had some history together, but Draco was a _Malfoy_. He could get any girl with the snap of his fingers; even in Hogwarts he was undeniably the shared sexual fantasy in all the houses. So why had he never elicited such a reaction from the young woman before him.

Ginny looked up at him then and, upon seeing his scowl, shrank back in her seat. Her blush quickly disappeared and she buried her head into her papers. Malfoy raised himself out of his chair, his paperwork forgotten as his curiosity got the better of him. Could he make her blush like a school girl? Draco snorted at the ridiculous idea that he couldn't get a Weasley, who was well below himself, to look at him like a god. This mindset intact, he sauntered towards her desk.

She finally grew aware of his movement when he was nearly on top of her. Her eyes met his, narrowing in distrustful curiosity. "Can I do something for you, Malfoy?"

Draco smiled down at her and positioned himself precariously on the edge of her desk. Ginny's eyes narrowed even more and he could see she was resisting the urge to move her chair away from him. Draco reached up, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He watched Weaslette's eyes follow his movement and he could tell his silence was unnerving her.

"You know, Ginevra, for a Weasley, you're not so horrible to look at."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up, her brown eyes wide. Before she could respond, for Draco knew she was desperately trying to get her wits about her, he reached down for her hand. Her doe-like eyes followed him as he placed a gentle kiss on the inside of her palm. Giving her what others had labeled his 'lady-killer smirk,' he quickly stood up off the desk.

"I think I'll turn in early tonight, Weasley. See you tomorrow." Draco tossed the words casually over his shoulder as he made his way out the door. As he closed it behind him, he chanced a glance at the young woman through the glass door, watching as she swatted her once-again red cheeks and shook her head, obviously mentally scolding herself for something. Draco Malfoy smiled and began to make his way out of the Ministry. _That's what I thought, Weaslette. Not even you are immune to the Malfoy charm…._

_

* * *

  
_

Ginny slapped fervently at her blushing cheeks, mentally reprimanding herself for even allowing Malfoy's words to unsettle her for a moment. She sighed and threw her head down on her desk, atop her papers, and groaned. _What the hell is Malfoy thinking?_ Ginny had been embarrassed enough at her adolescent behavior in front of Malfoy when she had all but drooled over one of his Aurors, but of course then he had come over and made her humiliation complete.

Her head shot up. That explained everything. Malfoy was trying to humiliate her more. _And no doubt prove himself a sexually appealing male_, Ginny thought with a snort. Oh, Ginny knew that there was no possible way Malfoy had meant what he had said to her. But even that knowledge hadn't stopped her cheeks from filling with enough color to match her hair and leave her even more unable to face him tomorrow.

Ginny sighed and picked up her pen, looking across the room at the small stack of work Malfoy hadn't bothered finishing. Whatever his intentions had been when he'd crossed the room to—she shivered—_hit_ on her, Ginny was wary and suspicious. He was up to something, no doubt. He was a Malfoy, after all, and ever since Monday she had been waiting on pins and needles to see what his next move would be. However, complementing her hadn't been among the possible scenarios she'd imagined. Regardless, there was no doubt in her mind that Malfoy was up to something. Ginny put her quill back to her papers, resolved that she would need to remain on her guard when he was around. Ginny would not be bested.


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, I'm sorry I'm not updating more frequently.. I hope the wait hasn't been too horrible. Unfortunately this is my last written chapter but I'm hoping to find some inspiration this weekend so maybe I'll get a few more done. As for this chapter, all I can say is don't be too disappointed...not everything is as it seems.

Thank you for all the amazing reviews! VERONICA21- yes, draco hasn't lost any of his ego, don't worry ;) CUDDLEBEAR- I love all your reviews, even the short ones NOONA1- Ginny lets her anger control her so yes, her shots are pretty cheap whereas draco's revenge is well planned and thought out, he is a slytherin after all. AND THANK YOU TO ALL THE OTHER WONDERFUL REVIEWERS!

**Disclaimer:** Again, I own nothing, except Gabriel and, in my pervy fantasies: Draco Malfoy.

Read, Review, & Enjoy!

**"Courage is fear that has said its prayers."**

**Karl Barth**

Ginny had to squander her squeal of delight when the letter arrived the next evening. She quickly gave the delivery owl a treat, a light pat on the head, and began to undo the piece of string around it. She unfurled the parchment slowly, reveling in the smell of cologne coming off the paper. Ginny had never been a pink-loving, boy-obsessed, girly sort of girl, but after so many years of war and depression, the little bit of male attention was most welcome.

_Dearest Ginny,_

_I hope you do not find this too forward of me. After meeting you last night, I could not help but be swept away by your beauty and charm and you have scarcely abdicated my thoughts since that moment. I would be greatly honored if you would join me for a drink after you get off work tonight. I will be waiting for you in Culthery's Tavern at 21.00. _

_Gabriel_

Ginny allowed herself a small, giddy smile before rolling up the letter and tucking it into her pocket. She pulled her quill from the ink and began attacking her pile of papers, wanting to finish early so she could go home and change before her—she paused before allowing the word into her mind—_date_, pointedly ignoring the curious and amused eyes examining her from across the room.

* * *

Smoothing down her wild tresses as she stepped into the pub in magical London, Ginny spied the gorgeous German in a corner booth. His brown curls hung loosely about him, shiny in the low lighting, framing his angelic face. His broad chest sported a light blue shirt which complemented his eyes, now twinkling as they fell on her face. She hesitantly followed his gaze over her jeans, her fitted white tee, and her dark maroon robes. She smiled; she had cleaned up pretty well. Feeling slightly more confident, she held her chin up and headed towards the table.

He stood as she neared. "Good evening." He flashed her his charming grin and they sat down. "You look lovely."

"Thank you, as do you."

Gabriel signaled to the bartender and when they each had a glass of white wine in front of them, she dragged her eyes back up to his.

"I was very nervous you wouldn't come."

Ginny smiled. "How could I resist such an offer?" _Wow, I'm flirting. It's alright, deep breath, Gin, you remember how to do this._ "Although it did make my night pass at an antagonizing pace."

He smirked and took a long sip of his drink. "I could imagine, especially being stuck working with Captain and all."

Ginny snorted rather unladylike into her wine and Gabriel's smile broadened. "Don't care much for him, I take it?"

He leaned closer, the shadows on his face shifting. His eyes glittered in the lamplight. "Promise you won't tell?"

"Like I have any loyalty to Malfoy," she said, rolling her eyes. Her heart had slowed down and she was finally starting to feel comfortable. She took another long sip of her wine, letting the sweet taste and aroma calm her and lull her into a sense of security.

"Don't get me wrong, Captain is great at what he does, but he's a right bastard sometimes." He shifted even closer, the top half of his body leaning over the table. "For example, when I mentioned you today, he just sneered and told me I should just forget it."

Ginny's eyes narrowed and she found herself leaning forward. "Did he now? What else did he say?"

Gabriel hesitated and looked down at the table. "Well…."

"You can tell me, you're not going to hurt my feelings. Malfoy has called me everything in the book. There's absolutely nothing you can say that could make me have a lower opinion of him than I already do." Her words were nonchalant, but her brown eyes were burning, her teeth grinding together in her mouth, bracing herself.

"He told me that you were nothing but a poor, dirty weasel that sailed through life on the coattails of the great Harry Potter. He said that as a respectable _pureblood_"—he spat the word distastefully—"I should keep a safe distance from you unless I wanted to catch something."

Ginny's hand balled together on the table. She always knew Malfoy was a right foul git, but now he had labeled himself the epitome of evil. Finally, she chanced a glance at her companion, who shied away slightly at her murderous look.

Finishing off her wine, Ginny forced a smile on her face. "Well, it's nothing he hasn't told me before." _But I'm going to kill him for saying it to you…._

Gabriel let out a breath in relief. "You two really don't get on, do you?"

"Childhood enemies, I'm afraid," she replied, smiling tersely.

Suddenly, he reached across the table and grabbed one of her hands, his large hand soft to the touch. He held it tenderly and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. Ginny felt her tense body loosen at his touch. His eyes were shimmering in the light, his regard searing through her, as though he could see past all of her barriers.

She coughed uncomfortably, but he didn't flinch. "So, what does Ginny Weasley do when she's not helping save the Wizarding World or working 'til all hours?"

* * *

Ginny sat on the stairs in front of her flat, gazing up into the clear night sky. The white moon cast a midnight glow on the empty street. In the distance, she could hear the hustle and bustle of the city, scattered bouts of laughing from intoxicated youth. She reached out and touched her lips softly; they were still tingling from the gentle kiss Gabriel had given her when they had parted ways outside the tavern.

Ginny smiled, thinking on the hours they'd spent talking over wine. Her face was still warm from the alcohol, but her heart was content, fluttering about in her chest for a minute before settling back down, only to start again a moment later. Sighing, she shook her head. She felt silly really. She wasn't a little girl anymore, she'd been with men before, in Hogwarts, but here she was swooning. A memory resurfaced of the summer she had fallen in love with Harry, drooling over him, swooning every time he was near. When he had saved her from the dungeons, she was convinced she was in love.

But Ginny had fallen in and out of love a lot since then. She had almost stopped believing it existed all together. Besides, Ginny always lost those she loved to death's fatal kiss. No, she had promised she would never put her heart and soul into someone's hands; she would never allow herself to become completely reliant on anyone else, because if they ever left, she would fall apart. Ginny had resolved when the war had ended that she would rely on herself—it was the only way she had lived until now after it all, if you did indeed call this living.

Standing, she took a deep breath of the summer night, full of resolutions and promises. Firstly, she had decided that it would be okay to allow Gabriel into her life, but she would be cautious. It had been awhile since she had had a man in her life and, frankly, she was getting a little tired of being alone. Secondly, she promised herself, determination glittering in her eyes that no matter what she had to do, Malfoy would pay.


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Thank you to all the wonderful reviews! I loved every one of them. I did indeed get a few chapters written this week and I'm quite excited for this one and the next couple. I have a bit more at the bottom, but for now, you know the drill: Read, Review, & Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing a part from Gabriel and the smarmy plot. :)

**"****When we reach the end of all the light we have, we must believe one of two things: there will be something solid for us to stand on, or we will be taught to fly"**

******-Patrick Overton**

Harry surrendered a grateful smile as a delicate hand placed the coffee cup in front of him. Placing his quill back in the inkwell, he smiled into soft brown eyes. "Always the life-saver, Gin." He reached out and took a greedy sip, willing the caffeine to enter his system quickly. "How was your week with Malfoy?"

Ginny shrugged, sipping on her own revitalizing drink. "We got all the work done, he's very efficient."

Harry nearly choked on his drink, widening his eyes at her incredulously. "What?" she asked.

"That's it? The work is done, Malfoy is a competent workmate, end of story? You two have barely even tolerated being in the same room together; I doubt all these years changed your prejudices."

Sighing, she raised a shoulder nonchalantly. "We're adults now, Harry, certainly you wouldn't expect us to act as immature as we did in Hogwarts. We've survived a war, a lot has changed." At Harry's raised eyebrow, she added, "but that doesn't mean we get on. We're…tolerating each other."

Harry was skeptical, but said nothing. He dismissed Ginny after handing her a few folders of paperwork and stood, striding over to the window with his coffee. The sun was rising on the horizon, spreading its warm rays over the first day of September. Harry watched London morning begin; the coffee shops filled, the sidewalks buzzed with noise—cars honking, people chatting on their portable phones, newspaper vendors bartering—and a slow sense of calm crept over the mass. There had been days where Harry had doubted he would ever see this. The Muggles remained blissfully unaware of wizards and witches and all things magical, and the Wizarding World, though it had its scars, had found peace. Somehow, they had won. On the whisper of a prayer, they had risen from the bloody ashes victorious.

His tired and worn eyes, which he had failed to find the spark in in a very long time, surveyed the town, the country before him. Was it worth it, to save the Wizarding World and the muggles? All the lives lost, all the heartache that he still felt bearing down on him. Sometimes when he lay awake at night, unable to sleep, he contemplated it. He saw the taunting smile fall from Ron's lips as Bellatrix Lestrange's jet of green light hit him. He heard Hermione's screams as Lucius tortured her again and again before everything had fallen silent. The laughter of the Burrow, the taste of butterbeer in Hogsmeade, the twinkling of Professor Dumbledore's eyes had all faded away, buried within the rubble of the war. All he had was Ginny, his unmerited position as Minister, and the memories of better days.

* * *

Gabriel drug his eyes up to the smug face leering down at him, her tiny hands palm-down on his desk, her eyes questioning and devious. He sighed and leaned back, a content smile spreading across his face at memories of the weekend. "Parkinson," he nodded in greeting.

Pansy's smirk grew. "I heard you had drinks with the Weaslette this weekend."

His smile grew, the gossip Queen always got straight to the point. "I had drinks with many a woman this weekend."

She raised a finely plucked eyebrow and pulled herself up straight off of his desk. Placing her petite, manicured hands on her hourglass waist, she studied him. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders, sides-swept bangs obscuring part of her right eye. At only five feet, five inches, Pansy Parkinson was a force to be reckoned with, especially when something stood between her and a juicy scandal.

"You best be on your guard, Schuman. I know your mightier-than-thou attitude,"—she smirked devilishly—"it even got me into your bed once. However, Ginny Weasley is not like most girls you go after. She has a mind of her own, and a mean Bat-Bogey hex to back it up. I've had a few unfortunate encounters with her myself." She moved her hands to cross her arms over her plump chest. "I doubt she's changed much in all these years."

Gabriel merely smiled at that. "Please, I attended Durmstrang. That little girl doesn't scare me. She's actually rather…endearing."

She snorted ungracefully. "Draco told me what you're up to. He may be my boss and my oldest friend, but—look, just be careful. That Adonis image you have of yourself won't get you far with that one."

Gabriel was out of his chair and standing in front of her before she could blink. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her close, placing his lips against her ear. "No matter the walls she puts up around herself, Ginny is just like every other girl." He tugged at her earlobe. "No matter how strong they pretend to be"—he nibbled at her neck—"or how much they tell themselves they don't want something"—another nibble that almost had her groaning in desire—"they're all the same."

Pansy strengthened her voice a bit before she asked him what exactly that meant.

"It means, dear Pansy, that if a man is falling at their feet long enough, they will give him their very essence as it is every girl's dream to be loved. I am her knight in shining armor. She will see it soon enough."

Pansy pulled away and slapped his forearm threateningly. She pursed her lips in displeasure and sent him a knowing glare before turning on her heel and stalking away, leaving a slightly horny Gabriel in her wake, a malicious smile on his face.

* * *

"Don't get up, Weaslette, I'm here to see Potter." The brunette let the glass door shut loudly behind her as she paraded through the reception area, making a beeline for the Minister's door.

"Parkinson, you can't just march in there." Ginny stood, quickly skirting around the desk to intercept the Slytherin. A flash of red planted itself in front of the large wooden door just as Pansy reached it. She stopped and let out an annoyed huff, her eyebrows raised and waiting.

Finally, she said, "Move, Weasley, if you know what's good for you."

Ginny snorted. "Your threats were always so uncreative, Parkinson. What business do you have with the Minister? You don't have an appointment."

Pansy stepped closer, reaching around Ginny to place her hand on the doorknob. The girls were about the same height, one hair of brown, one of read glaring at each other, waiting for the other to give in. Pansy's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"It's a business matter and I know he won't object to seeing me. Malfoy sent me," she added quickly.

Ginny's red brow rose, interested. "And what could be so important?"

Smirking, Pansy lowered her face closer, her words almost a snarl as she informed the Gryffindor, "that is none of your concern." She sat up, pulled her hand off the handle, and crossed her arms over her chest, a small triumphant smile on her face. "Potter," she hollered a moment later, "I know you can hear me. Tell your dog to back off and let me in."

The door swung open a moment later to reveal the Prime Minister. Ginny gasped as she stumbled backwards a bit. She pulled herself upright and straightened her robes. Harry just gave her a weak nod when she looked at him questioningly and, with one last distasteful glance at Pansy, stomped back to her desk. Harry pulled the door open and motioned for Pansy to come in and she stepped into his office, the door shutting heavily behind her.

It had been years since she had stood in front of him. All she had seen since the war had ended was his picture plastered on the front page of the Daily Prophet. She had always thought his eyes looked tired and haunted, and standing before him now, studying him, she realized she had been right. Harry Potter, though he had grown even more handsome over the years—his broad quidditch shoulders, his unruly black hair, his vibrant green eyes, and his alarming height—had also become worn and ragged. She watched as he collapsed into his chair and signaled for her to take a seat. Stubbornly, she remained standing.

Harry merely sighed at her behavior and rubbed his forehead. "Parkinson, what can I do for the Auror Department today?"

She raised her chin deftly into the air. "Draco wanted me to pass along the message that he will be unavailable to come in tonight to help."

Harry raised his eyes to her face. "If that's all, you may go."

They looked at each other, Harry obviously waiting for Pansy to leave, and Pansy trying to find the courage to stay. She shifted uncomfortably, one hand propped on her hip, the other loosely at her side. She worried her lip under her front teeth. Yes, it had been many years, but Harry Potter still knew how to make her nervous.

"Actually…that's not really the reason I came. I rather used it as my excuse." She looked up, searching his eyes, but they revealed nothing. Harry was as talented as a Slytherin in hiding his emotions. Or perhaps that was merely the result of war.

When Harry noticed she wasn't going to say more, he stood and walked near her. "Why did you come, Parkinson?" he prodded.

Pansy stood her ground as he drew closer, her eyes never leaving him. She waited until he was in front of her before she squeaked out, "It's been a long time."

He narrowed his eyes in confusion but then nodded. Her petite supple body drew his gaze from her. He watched her chest rise and fall with her short, nervous breaths. Remembering she was watching him, he pulled his searching eyes up to hers again, raising a brow, signaling he was waiting for her to continue.

"You should keep an eye on the Weasel," she said suddenly, her voice back to its biting tone. "She's pissed Draco off."

Harry nodded slowly and Pansy forced herself to turn around and start heading towards the door. She was almost there, head held high, before she gave in and turned around, surprising both of them. Quickening her pace, she was standing before him again in seconds. Timidly, she met his eyes once more before she reached up and grabbed his head, pulling his lips down to hers.

**Author's Note: ***laughs evilly* Don't worry, lovelies, all will be explained. Unfortunately, Draco/Ginny action will be a little while in coming yet as it still requires a lot of build up and I've always been one of those people those people who says at the end of a movie: they just met an hour and a half ago and now they're madly in love already? So, I believe build-up is very important. HOWEVER, until then, I will be giving you some Harry/Pansy. I tried to stay away, but I just love the ship far too much.

ALSO, I need some help. Who do you think should fall for who first, Draco or Ginny? I would really like your opinions, so leave it in your reviews!

Last point, if I get some time, I'd also like to rewrite some of my old stories as the ideas were quite good, it's just that looking back now I realize the quality was shite. So keep an eye out for those (although not in the immediate future..). Alright, I hope to have you all another chapter soon! Until then, I would absolutely love some reviews :)


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** See, quick update? They're short chapters so I promise never to leave you hanging for too long, as long as my muse is cooperating that is. A little action in this one, but nothing too heady. Don't worry, I promise plenty of smut down the road. But no fluff, I don't do fluff.

**Disclaimer:** As always, the characters are all the brilliant creation of JK's imagination. I do, however, own Gabriel and my (preferred) smutty version of events after Dumbledore's death.

As always, Read, Review, & Enjoy.

**"To avoid situations in which you might make mistakes may be the biggest mistake of all."**

**- Peter McWilliams**

Ginny was pleasantly surprised when Gabriel walked through the door at six o'clock to help her with her paperwork in Malfoy's absence. They sat across from each other for a couple hours in amiable silence, looking up every once in a while to smile at each other before returning to their work. Finally at half eight, Ginny set down her quill and stretched her arms over her head, a yawn escaping her mouth. She heard Gabriel chuckle.

"What?" she asked.

He shook his head, placing his quill back in his inkwell and pushing the papers inside. "I think we've done enough for the night, don't you?"

Ginny nodded and helped him pack up the papers, setting them in a neat pile on the side of her desk. As Ginny was straightening the pile, his arms snaked around her waist. "I've been thinking about you, Ginny Weasley."

Ginny smiled and felt a warm blush rise on her cheeks. She turned to face him, grinning. "I had a good night Friday night." She reached up and straightened his tie absentmindedly.

He bent over and brushed his lips against hers, sending shivers down her spine. "You are beautiful." He heard her breath quicken and smirked. Putting her out of her misery, he pressed his lips firmly against hers.

Ginny moaned as his lips moved against hers. Her entire body was on fire as his fingers wandered, responding wantonly to his touch. It had been so long since she had been touched like this by a man, since she had been wanted. Ginny had always been a strong women, she had never given into men easily. A part of that confidence had come with all the support and love she had already had in her life from her brothers and her parents. Ginny had never needed to feel wanted and loved. War had come along, however. It had taken nearly everything from her, including that air of confidence she had always emitted. And now, after years of feeling alone and undesirable, she wouldn't help but give everything that Gabriel asked for.

His hands grasped her thighs and pulled her onto the desk, the papers they had just completed scattering to the floor. Letting out a sigh as his lips left hers to wander down her neck, she let her head fall back, letting him explore her body with his strong hands and experienced lips. The thought that they were moving too fast flickered through her mind, but Gabriel's expertise made it very difficult for her to get her wits about her and think reasonably. When she felt his cool palm on her bare back however, she reached out to push him away.

His eyes met hers, confused and full of desire. Ginny gulped guiltily and pulled herself off the desk. "Gabriel, we barely know each other," she said quietly.

Rapidly, the look left his eyes and he grinned. "You're right of course, Gin. We shouldn't get too carried away." He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I need to get going anyway. I'm sure Captain will be back tomorrow to help you out, although"—he brought his lips against her ear—"I'm sure you'd much rather have me."

She smiled at him when he pulled away grinning. He leaned down and placed a firm kiss on her lips, reminding her of what exactly she had just stopped from happening, and winked before heading for the door. Ginny waved her wand and replaced the papers on her desk before she gathered up her things, her cheeks and other places of her still burning. She sighed, almost regretting her decision. After all, it had been a long time….

* * *

Harry was still wide awake, despite the hour, laying on his bed in the dark. His obsession was keeping him awake, as it used to many, many years ago. He closed his eyes, remembering the feeling of her soft, feminine lips on his. Pansy Parkinson had kissed him. Something she hadn't done since Hogwarts.

_"Potter," she nodded in greeting as he entered the room. Harry was not happy to see that his next few Friday nights would be spent with a Slytherin, particularly this one. Snape had finally tired of Harry's half-assed efforts in N.E.W.T. potions and had assigned him a tutor, a smirk on his face as he refused to tell Harry just who the tutor would be. Harry had rather hoped it would be Hermione, but alas he was not so lucky._

_ "Parkinson," he replied curtly. The first four nights passed relatively smoothly. Pansy was patient but strict, yelling at him when he got something wrong, forcing him to do a potion again and again until he did it correctly. She didn't provoke him unwarranted, although they did have their fair share of fights, one of which ended with him storming out of their fourth session._

_ The fifth__ week had passed in relative silence as the two worked furiously, both ignoring each other, both too stubborn to apologize for the blow up the week before. Harry wiped a brow as he bent over the cauldron, stirring it. He reached back and pulled off his heavy cloak, tossing it onto the stool, feeling the cool dungeon air lap refreshingly at his bare forearms and seep through his thin tee-shirt. He felt Pansy's eyes on him, but tried to ignore them._

_ Truth be told, Harry had become rather fascinated by her as of late. She was very serious when teaching him and she knew what she was doing. It was odd, to see how smart she actually was, because she never showed it, always hiding behind Malfoy in the shadows. He was captivated by the way she chewed her bottom lip when she was concentrating, or the way her nose scrunched when she was thinking. He had even memorized the way her lips pursed slightly when she was displeased and a retort was ready and waiting on her tongue. Not to mention the fact that she was downright attractive. She always came to their sessions without her robes, just a simple knee-length skirt and a button-down blouse. Her young breasts strained the material of the blouse across her chest and her skirt showed enough calf to leave Harry aching to see the rest of her legs._

_ She had become his obsession. He watched her in classes and in the Great Hall, studying her as though he had never seen her before which, honestly, he hadn't. He saw the way she laughed half-heartedly at people and the way she pursed her lips when they turned their back. He saw how a few quick, quiet words from her could calm Malfoy's temper and how Malfoy watched over her like a brother. All these things had made Pansy interesting and desirable and the fact that she was unattainable…well, that guaranteed her presence in most of Harry's dreams._

_ He chanced a glance at her, catching her as she studied him. Pansy quickly turned back to her work and Harry smiled. Perhaps there was a small possibility that she found him just as intriguing. Harry removed the spoon from the cauldron and seated himself on the stool to wait out the twenty minutes the potion needed to simmer. Pansy sat rather rigidly beside him, looking anywhere but at him._

_ "Pansy Parkinson, I daresay you're avoiding me."_

_ She snorted and turned to face him, a fine eyebrow raised with Slytherin arrogance. "Don't be absurd, Potter. You're unpleasant, but I am neither coward enough nor childish enough as to avoid you."_

_ Harry narrowed his eyes, his grin widening. It was time to find out if he occupied her thoughts as much as she tortured his. He slowly slid off the stool and stood in front of her, leaning back against the table. "Do you find me attractive, Parkinson?"_

_ Her eyes widened and then a giggle escaped her lips. Others followed until she was gasping for breath and dabbing at her eyes. "Look, just because every girl in Hogwarts wants to get into your pants, being the Chosen One and all, doesn't mean that I follow the masse. Thanks for the laugh though, Potter."_

_ He smirked as he watched her cheeks return to their normal pale and watched her blue eyes once again skirt to avoid his. "Could have fooled me, with the way your eyes were dissecting me earlier."_

_ Pansy scoffed. "Honestly, and I thought Draco had a big ego…."_

_ "Pity, because I find you very attractive."_

_ Eyes bulging, she met his twinkling gaze. She stuttered for only a second before she regained her composure and nearly whispered, "What?"_

_ Smirking, Harry stepped closer to her, his legs brushing her knees. "I want you, Pansy."_

_ She swallowed thickly, but didn't move. Silence fell thickly about the room. "Well I don't want you," she said at last. She forced her eyes away from him and pushed back her stool, standing, trying to put distance between them. Harry grabbed her upper arm before she could get out of his reach._

_ "Potter, let go of me," she spat at him, trying to wrench her arm from his iron grip._

_ He smiled although, inwardly, he was scared, his heart racing, the rational part of his mind desperately trying to get his mouth and his body to heed what it was doing. For some reason, however, Harry was running on pure instinct now._

_**Author's Note: **_Don't worry, the flashback will be concluded by Pansy in the next chapter. I know, lots of H/P, but it won't stay that way, I have not forgotten who the main characters of this story are. I just needed to add another element in order to give D/G some time for build-up, etc. Besides, outside forces are important too. Ergo, I added H/P, which resulted in the need of a little background story. I am happy to say though that the next two chapters are complete and everything looks quite promising. Trust me, you will all love or hate me by the end of chapter 10, but I still have one small twist in store before then (so excited for the next chappie!) :)

Also, I am adding another 'revamped' one-shot tonight. Again, one I wrote years ago and still love, so I tweaked it a bit. It should be a good, short read for you if you're interested!

Will update shortly, I promise, but I have to leave you in a little suspense. Until then, my avid readers.


	10. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes: **First, I have to say a massive thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. The response to my question was well met and I'm happy to say we are all in accord. Thanks to those who have read my one-shots as well. More at the bottom, for now, Read, Review, & Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine a part from Gabriel and the plot (not even the words of wisdom).

**"Blessed are the hearts that can mend, for they will never be broken."**

**-Albert Camus (also quoted in One Tree Hill :D)**

_Pansy stopped trying to free herself and studied him. She memorized the green in his eyes, the hard lines on his face, his mess of black hair. A minute later, she blinked her eyes furiously and began her futile struggle again, trying to regain her senses. Yes, she was very attracted to Harry Potter, she'd be an idiot to deny it. She had been watching him for weeks during their sessions, eyeing him as he bent over the potion, his face scrunched in concentration and the way that his finger traced the words on the page as he read the potion. Also, she had become immensely jealous of Hermione Granger, despite the fact that everyone knew her and Weasley were a shag away from curing her uptight pretentiousness._

_Finally, Harry loosened his grip, but her arm remained in his hand, her struggle ended, her basic motor functions ceasing. His eyes were seductive, suggestive, and Pansy wanted nothing more than to g__ive into her recent, rather kinky, fantasies. _

"_You don't like me at all, Parkinson, not even one bit, isn't that correct?" he said at last, softly, the atmosphere fragile and impressionable. _

_She nodded. "In fact, I'd even venture to say I hate you."_

"_Good." Then he pulled her to him fast, his lips crashing down on hers, stealing her breath from her lungs. They hadn't broken apart until the timer had sounded. _

Pansy smiled at the memory. Her and Harry had had a few good snogs before their sessions and education had come to a crashing halt, thanks to You-Know-Who and the war. Pansy had avoided him avidly over the past six years. In the war, she had stayed at home with her parents, trying her best to avoid it. All the Parkinson's wanted was their status and their money and the only guaranteed way of keeping both was to avoid all conflict. However, Pansy had found herself unable to fight the curiosity anymore and had wandered over there today, just to see him. One look, she had told herself, and then she would leave.

As she recalled Harry's lips on hers, his tongue assuaging her mouth, her moan echoing in the office as they pulled back, breathless, Pansy knew she had done anything but satiate her hunger. After all these years, she still yearned for Harry Potter and the unpleasant ache between her legs reminded her of just how much. She had been with many men over the years, especially since the war had ended, but none of them had kissed like Harry. She groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow, incredibly turned on and slightly frustrated. She would have Harry Potter no matter what she had to do.

* * *

_"Ginny, get out of here!"_

_ "No, Ron, I'm not leaving you."_

_ She was back in the Great Hall, lights__ of every color shooting through the air. Ron yanked her down underneath a table. He turned a serious face on her, his gaze tired and defeated. _

_ "Gin, please, I'm begging you to leave."_

_ "How can you possibly ask such a thing of me?" Ginny reached a hand out and touched his cheek gently. A scream echoed somewhere and they both pulled their eyes to Hermione's unmoving form on the stone floor, Lucius towering above her, a sneer on his lips. He flicked his wand and she screamed again in pain, her wand dangling from Lucius' other hand. Ron's jaw clenched and he found his sister's gaze again._

_ "Please, Ginny. We'll win, I promise, but I need to know you're safe. You've done enough, love." H__e engulfed her in a hug, then pushed her towards the door. Ginny ducked out of the hall, unnoticed. She stopped outside the doors, her resolve wavering. She didn't want to walk away like a coward, but she knew if she stayed she would only be in the way, with Harry and her brothers worrying about her. Ron was right, she had done a lot in the war, perhaps the final battle was not the best place for her to be. However, there was an incredible sense of guilt weighing down on her as though she had made this decision before and it had been the wrong one. For a moment, she considered barging back into the fray._

_Finally, her shoulders slumped defeated and she raced down the front stairs and into the crisp night air, tears streaming down her face as she left her loved ones behind in a fight for their lives. She stopped by the edge of the lake and fell to the ground, praying to any god to keep everyone safe, that they would be victorious. Through her veil of tears and incomprehensible mutterings, she saw a head of blonde detach itself from a tree and retreat into the Forbidden Forest._

Ginny sat up, her forehead soaked in sweat, her breath ragged. Taking several deep breaths to calm her thundering heart, she scanned her room, trying to get a grip on her bearings. It was just a dream, like all the ones before. Still, the reality hit hard as she remembered with stark clarity that the gods had not honored her request. They were dead. Hermione. Ron. George. Fred. Percy. Bill. Mum and Dad. Remus. Sirius. Dumbledore. Tonks. Neville. Luna. Cho. The list went on and on.

The tears wouldn't stop after that. She pulled her legs to her chest and tried to calm her heaving body. It had been two years; when would the pain go away? No matter how she tried to distract herself with work or with Gabriel, she couldn't stop seeing their faces and hearing their voices. She pulled herself out of bed and slithered into her robe, grabbing her wand and heading for the door. She still had a few people left in this world to rely on and she was tired of crying alone.

* * *

The late night visitor was a surprise, but certainly not unwelcomed. Harry caught her just as her sobbing frame collapsed to the ground after he opened the door. He dragged her inside and shut the door, settling both of them on the couch. Running his fingers over her wild tresses, he tried to soothe her, letting her tears soak his t-shirt. "Ginny, love, it's alright."

She pulled back, her face, red and tear-stained. Shaking her head furiously she gulped, trying to fight the tears desperately now. "No, it's not. They're never coming back, Harry. And the pain, it won't…I can't..."—she sniffled loudly—"I miss them so much."

He pulled her head into his chest again. "I miss them too, all the time. We both lost so much, Gin, more than anyone should." He hugged her tightly again him, trying to keep his own tears from slipping down his cheeks.

"When will it stop hurting? When will we be able to live normally?"

He sighed. "I don't know if it will ever stop hurting. We can only hope that with each day, the pain ebbs more and more until it is nothing but a dull reminder of all that we've survived. I don't think we're meant to live normal lives after all we've seen, Gin."

She pulled her face out of his chest and looked up at him, her eyes red and blotchy, searching his for answers that Harry could not provide. He touched her cheek gently, wiping away the trace of a lingering teardrop. "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, Harry. I don't know how many more mornings I can wake up and pretend everything is okay. I don't know how many more smiles I can paint on or how many more laughs I can force out past the overwhelming guilt. We lived and they didn't."

"We have to try, for them. We have to live for them. They fought and died so that we could live happily, equal no matter our bloodline, without constant fear."

Ginny closed her eyes against the guilt, against the pain. "But at least you fought, Harry. That last battle, I—"

Harry's hands tightening on her shoulders stopped her short. "You did nothing wrong, Gin. Ron made you leave. Don't you dare blame yourself."

"Why did he want me to leave, though? Hermione was there fighting as was Luna and Cho…."

He sighed and ran a hand through his thick black hair. "Neither of us would have ever tried to dissuade Hermione from fighting; besides she was part of it all from day one. She knew the risks in being my friend. Cho and Luna chose to fight with the Order."

"As did I."

"But you were his sister. And we knew that you had already suffered so much because of Voldemort your first year at Hogwarts. Ron made you leave because he was afraid that Voldemort would use you, Ginny. He knew your weaknesses and as such you were more vulnerable than anyone else."

Ginny pulled away from him and looked away, staring out the window into the black darkness. "I was not the same girl I had been in the dungeon, Harry, nor am I now. I am not the little girl madly in love with you, nor Ron's gangly sister, nor Tom Riddle's plaything."

Harry sighed at her defensive tone. "Of course you're not. Look, we can't change what happened, Ginny. Yes, they're gone. I wish more than anything it were otherwise. I would trade my life for theirs in a heartbeat, but life just doesn't work that way." He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him again. "We have to stop living with our regrets and our 'what if's. And remember, Gin, that whenever you feel alone, I will always be here for you. I know I'm not your family, but I will always take care of you."

She gave him a small, sad smile and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. "I know, Harry. Thank you. It just gets to me sometimes." Harry nodded in understanding.

Harry chuckled and pulled Ginny to her feet. "Come on, you can stay here tonight."

Ginny crawled into Harry's bed and let him pull her against his body, wrapping his arms protectively around her waist. She sighed. It felt right, safe being with Harry. He was all that remained. Harry was the reminder of everything good that Voldemort had taken. He was Ron's roguish smile, Hermione's chastising glance, Fred and George's twinkling eyes. He was the smells and sounds of the Burrow at Christmas and Dumbledore's knowing blue gaze. Harry was the living memory of everything Ginny had once cherished so much, things she had taken for granted, things she would give anything to get back.

Harry was right, however. There was no time-turner that could change what had happened and bring them back. She had to move on for them, as Charlie had insisted. Tomorrow she would try to rise above her demons. Tomorrow, she would sincerely try to pull herself from the dark abyss and live again. She owed it to them and to herself. After all, she was Ginny Weasley, and Ginny Weasley would not be defeated.

**Author's Note: ** Next chapter will be up shortly, it is already written, until then however I would LOVE some reviews! Next chapter, one very interesting development and the long-awaited turning point in D/G. :) Oh yes, now you want to review so I'll update faster ;).


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Finally, the end to, to put it simply, the worst week of my life. Two essays, a very very bad familial dispute, a bleak-looking future, housemate issues... the list goes on, but none of you care. Anyway, finally, here we are, a new chapter and a very exciting turn of events. I want to thank everyone for their wonderful reviews, I love them so much. I promise I will take the time to respond to you all personally as a thank you, but I hope you'll forgive me and accept my general one for now. Oh and the song I quote is quite amazing, by the way, so check it out.. even if you don't speak french :)

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine... I'm not that brilliant. Gabriel, I claim wholeheartedly.

Now, Read, Reveiw, & Enjoy my lovelies!

"Je veux juste une dernière danse/ Avant l'ombre et l'indifférence/ Un vertige puis le silence/ Je veux juste une dernière danse."

(I want just one last dance/ before the shadow and the indifference/ a vertigo then the silence/ I want just one last dance)

**- Derniere Danse, Kyo**

It happened after a couple hours of restless sleep. The night sky was still inky black and dotted with stars. She woke up to Harry's breath on her face and met his eyes. He was awake, watching her. She could tell that her visit had got him thinking too and his mind wouldn't settle and let him sleep. Or perhaps, it was a nightly occurrence for him, like her nightmares. Slowly, she reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, caressing the rough stubble. Harry closed his eyes at the touch and Ginny scooted her head forward, pressing her lips against his.

Harry's response was slow and unsure, but it came. He cradled the back of Ginny's head as her mouth opened to his exploring tongue. She wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled herself tight against him, her other hand tangling itself in his hair. She sighed at Harry's assault and let him roll her onto her back, bringing the upper part of his body over hers. His lips left her mouth to trail kisses down her jaw to her neck, where he began nibbling. Ginny's body pressed itself shamelessly against him, wet and ready.

She yanked off his t-shirt and let her hands walk the bare landscape of his back. Harry lifted off of her enough to tear her shirt off and took an aching nipple into his mouth. Ginny moaned, letting all the tension that had built up in her body find its release. Her hands found Harry's waistband and shoved at his pajama bottoms. With his help, they quickly divested the rest of their clothing.

Harry took her lips prisoner again in a searing, needy kiss. His sadness was buried in his taut body, trying to find comfort and solace in her touch. She welcomed him into her warmth, her depraved body responding to his every move as they eased into a slow, sensual pace. Harry's hand massaged her beasts, the other taunting her nerves on her stomach. She moaned in pleasure as her naked skin soaked in his touch, her senses on fire. Sensing his pace quicken, she thrust her hips upwards to meet his movements, her tongue languidly stroking his. She bit down on his bottom lip just as he came and collapsed on top of her. Reaching out, she held his head to her chest, relishing the comfort and relief her body felt, despite not coming. She never had with Harry, but still, it had never been unsatisfactory. On the contrary, it had always been exactly what she had needed—just like tonight.

Like they had done so many times throughout the war, they comforted each other in the best way they knew how. They had often found an escape from reality in each other's arms. Tonight, as they had succumbed to the painful memories of the past, they had sought reassurance once again, something they hadn't done since before the final battle. It was times like these, full of regret for the past and doubt for the present, that you needed the guarantee of something solid in your life. She closed her eyes to the sound of his heavy breathing and tried to sleep with the knowledge that Harry was and always had been her concrete entity.

* * *

"Ginny, I'm off to my meeting and then I'll head straight home. Malfoy should be here shortly to help you. Good work today." Harry stopped by her desk as he shrugged his jacket on. Picking up his briefcase, he gave her a small smile, which she returned, and left her alone. Ginny shuffled some papers around on her desk, organizing a pile with all the documents that needed to be finished tonight. The week had passed relatively well. There had been no awkwardness between Harry and her, thanks in large part to their history. What they had done was nothing more than what they had done during the war. Granted, now Harry was her boss—and the Prime Minister—but he was still just Harry, as he always would be to her. Malfoy had returned the following day and the paperwork had been successfully accomplished the entire week without much argument. He was relatively quiet and well-behaved—which had Ginny a bit on edge. She would observe him while they worked, trying to plan her next move.

Gabriel, however, was a different story. Ginny had been avoiding his owls avidly, a sense of guilt turning in her stomach every time she thought of him. The same day she had pushed Gabriel away, she had gone to Harry's bed. Suffice to say, she wasn't feeling all that great about herself. She liked Gabriel, really. He was gorgeous, charming, and ambitious. He was everything she should want in a guy and, to be honest, Ginny really needed to get back out there; she couldn't mope around forever. The door swung open loudly, successfully shaking her from her reverie.

"Weasley," Malfoy nodded in acknowledgement. He made his way towards her desk, stopping to stand across from her. "I've brought a visitor. He's very anxious to see you." Ginny saw Gabriel enter the door, the lines set hard in his face, his lips pursed in displeasure. "Although"—Draco leaned down—"for future reference, I don't appreciate being the middle man in your fickle love spats. I couldn't care less about what goes on in your little world. So please, talk to your boyfriend so my life will be at peace again."

As Malfoy stalked away, Gabriel sauntered up to the desk. Wearily, Ginny found her feet. "Gabriel," she said quietly in greeting.

"Ginny, you've been avoiding me." He made it a statement. His eyes bore into hers and she fought the will to look away from them.

"I've been really busy." She groaned inwardly at the lame excuse.

Gabriel nodded curtly. "Busy, you say? Or just busy ignoring me?"

She sighed. "Look, Gabriel, I've got a lot on my mind. I've been wanting to see you, I have, but—"

He slammed his hands down hard on the table. "No more excuses." His blue eyes were spitting, eyebrows slanted. "I thought we had quite a good thing going, Ginny."

Ginny threw up her arms in frustration. _Men_. "Of course we did. Gabriel, surely you can't doubt that I fancy you. It's just…I may have done something…look, I just needed some time is all."

He raised an eyebrow curiously. "And now?"

Ginny shook her head, avoiding his gaze. Malfoy sat in his chair across the room, the pile of papers on his lap untouched, watching the scene before him. Gabriel slapped the table one more time before pulling himself up tall and proud. He leered down at the redhead before him.

"Forget it, you're not worth the effort." He turned and marched towards the exit.

He was almost to the door before Ginny squeaked out, "Excuse me?"

Gabriel turned and, simultaneously, Malfoy's eyes widened. "Look, Weasley, it's been good fun but you're not as easy of a shag as I anticipated. I mean sure, I've got plenty of girls keeping my bed warm, but that doesn't mean my ego will allow me to be ignored by the likes of you." He walked towards her, his face bored and impatient. "I'm tired of playing cat and mouse with you. To be honest, love"—he reached across the desk to stroke her face—"your looks aren't worth the time."

Ginny felt her lips part. She knew she was gaping like an idiot, but her brain felt like it was bouncing about in her head. She felt her legs wobble and she steadied herself on the desk, a new resolve turning her face cold and determined. "I beg your pardon?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Do I have to spell it out for you, darling? All I wanted was a good lay from you and since you're not giving it up—"

A loud crack reverberated about the room and Ginny's hand connected mercilessly with his cheek. He stood still for a moment before turning his head back to look at her, his hand cradling his flaming jaw and his eyes black with murder. Ginny watched him lower his hand, still in an obvious state of shock. She made to strike him again but he caught her hand harshly.

"Oh no, Ginny, I'll give you one, but you even try it again and you'll regret it, I assure you. I was merely doing Captain a favor." He smirked devilishly. "Thought I might get a wild night out of it while I was at it after hearing about your temper. But I'm done. I really can't be arsed to court you anymore and my reward just isn't worth it."

Gabriel released her hand, turned on his heel, nodded to Draco, and whisked out the door without an apology or a guilty glance backwards. Ginny stood there for several long minutes, the silence in the room stretching until it was unbearable. Finally, Malfoy dared to move. He placed the pile of papers on the floor and stood, moving slowly and cautiously towards his companion.

"Weaslette, let me—"

He stopped short as her eyes whipped up to meet his. He gulped. She didn't need an explanation. Oh no, she understood perfectly. Draco had coaxed his Auror into wooing Ginny Weasley and then leaving her out to dry. His revenge had been slow and cunning, but he had won. Her eyes were hollow at first and he couldn't decipher anything. She merely stared at him for another long minute, her eyes shifting between cold, hurt, and distrusting, were boring into his to leave a lasting impression.

Ginny didn't scold him, she didn't cry and hit him furiously, she didn't even flick her wand and curse him—all of which he had anticipated. She simply turned her back to him, gathered her purse from her desk and fled the office, her composure intact, not a single tear escaping her fragile façade. Draco stood, dumbfounded. Firstly at the fact that Gabriel had revealed the entire scheme to her simply because he hadn't managed to get into Weasley's knickers. Secondly, for the reason that Ginny's reaction had caught him off guard and left him sorely confused. Lastly, because for some inconceivable reason, his well-executed victory didn't feel nearly as good as he had expected it to.

**Author's Note: **Okay, firstly, I would love some reviews because this week could really use a little sunshine (in all senses actually, bloody grey Scotland...). Secondly, I'm off to Belgium for a few days as it is officially the start of my Easter Break (sadly, I can't go home..). I will be back though Wednesday and granted I have a good response, will update then. Hopefully can get quite a lot written as well over my holiday, but I do have a french essay to balance in there as well so... Until next chapter!


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **My lovelies, I am so so so so SORRY. Can you ever forgive me for the long wait? I do, naturally have my excuses (life continuing to unravel, university life, my muse running off...) but none are sufficient, so on my hands and knees I beg for your forgiveness and I hope that you are still with me. After the last chapter, it was a bit difficult to know where I was going to go with the story, so even when I did have a bit of time, I didn't have any ideas. I have another chapter almost done, so I will try to get it up shortly as part of my apology. Unfortunately, we're entering exams so I am not sure how many updates there will be this month. As of May 30, however, I will be home sweet home (Iowa, yay :D) on my summer holidays (oh, look at that british slip in there...). Let's hope summer will allow my creative juices to flow and I hope in the near future I will be able to treat you all better, my darling beloved readers.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, a part from Gabriel and my scarce ideas.

Read, Review, & Enjoy!

_"Smile, the rest will come later."_

**-Ben Backstrom**

It had been two excruciatingly long weeks. Draco stared unblinkingly ahead, studying the red veil of locks across the room. Ginny was bent over her desk, working determinedly and silent, as she had been since that day. Malfoy came in, picked up his half of the pile and set to work. The tension encompassed them in a suffocating manner and the few times Draco had dared to make conversation, he had been met with silence. Not a hex, not a glare, not even a glance was spared by her to acknowledge him. He had become invisible. There was nothing Draco Malfoy hated more than being nothing.

"So, the Weaslette's become your next victim?"

Malfoy brought his gaze up to the row of white teeth before him. Blaise Zabini lounged languidly on the corner of his desk, having just come from a meeting with the Minister, his blue eyes twinkling as he studied his friend. "Sod off, Zabini."

He chuckled. "What's wrong? Having troubles wooing her?" Draco merely raised an eyebrow. Blaise continued, the grin on his face growing knowingly, "I know the look you were giving her when I came out of the door. You want Ginny Weasley. I know you too well, Malfoy."

Draco sighed and leaned back in his chair, reaching up to ruffle his fluffy, blonde hair. "Guess there's no point in denying that she's sparked my interest."

Blaise glanced behind him at the minister's personal assistant, scribbling away at a piece of parchment, her face buried beneath a cascade of fiery locks. "She's a feisty little viper, I don't blame you." His eyes came back to meet Draco's. "So, what's the problem? You seem angry."

His expression was bored. "I'm always angry." Blaise chucked again and nodded in reluctant agreement. His eyes probed his friends', searching him for information. "Right now, I'm her least favorite person," he conceded at last.

"I think you always have been."

He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. "Yes, well now she hates me."

The raven-haired man regarded him coolly. "And before?"

"It was a mutual difference of opinions."

Zabini snorted. "Well, out with it. What'd you do?"

He opened his mouth as if to speak and then shut it again. Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise as though sizing him up. He didn't confide his personal business in others normally and the incident with Ginny was, to be honest, a bit harmful to his pride. Sure, he had done what he had set out to do. Draco Malfoy had won, yet it felt, somehow, that he had lost. It wasn't the fact that he had fought with rocks in his fists, oh no, he had played unfairly far too many times to feel guilty—it was the way he operated. Rather, he was unsatisfied with the result. Weasley was furious, obviously, but she didn't display it. She wasn't fighting him back; it was almost as if she had just given up. Finally, he responded, "It's not important. But, for some reason, her blind hatred makes her all the more attractive."

Blaise nodded, knowing he would pay a visit to Pansy later to see if she knew what was going on; she always seemed to, especially when it came to Malfoy. Blaise and Draco were friends, but Draco watched out for Pansy like a brother and when he had a secret, she was almost always privy to it. He studied the sexually frustrated man before him, who was once again mentally shagging the young woman across the room.

"Well, what are you going to do then?"

Grey orbs met blue and a smirk spread across Draco's face. "You should know by now Zabini that Malfoys always get what they want."

Blaise smirked in return and regarded Weasley once more as he pulled himself off the desk. Turning to Draco he said softly, "Poor girl doesn't even know that she has just made herself your most intriguing challenge yet."

_And my most difficult,_ Draco's mind finished with a determined finality.

* * *

"Harry…."

The brunette's moaning encouraged Harry's hand up her skirt. He pushed her harder into the edge of the desk, his tongue and teeth dancing their way up and down her neck. She reached down and put her hands on top of his, pushing them further up her thighs.

"Are you sure—?"

Harry cut her off with a needy kiss, his tongue curling around hers, swallowing her words. Reaching around her to her bottom, he pulled her up onto the desk. Their hands quickly dispersed of the papers and quills decorating the wooden surface. Pansy pulled away from his lips and began to undo the buttons on her blouse. She hesitated before undoing the last one.

"I told Ginny that I have a floo with Italy's minister and that I wasn't to be disturbed for any reason." He reached out and yanked the last button from its hole.

"It's so late already, why don't we just go to yours?"

Harry cradled her breasts in his hands, his fingers massaging her already stiff nipples. "I really do need to get work done."

Pansy gasped and then giggled. "Then why, Harry Potter, did you summon me?"

Harry smiled devilishly and reached down to nip at her collarbone. "The reason I am behind in my work is because my mind is in a haze of lust. I can't stop thinking about you. Pansy…."

She pulled her lips back to his, only letting him go when she began to feel lightheaded. "Fuck me, Potter."

Harry met her gaze, his eyes round with surprise. "Pansy, I—"

She held her finger tight against his lips. "You want it and I want it. We've both spent the past six years dreaming of this moment, never imagining it would actually come. We're both to stubborn to admit it, Harry, so now I'm ordering you." She grabbed his tie, yanking it from his neck. Holding his shoulders tightly, she tried to pull him onto the desk until he finally climbed up, spreading himself on top of her and she lay down, his hands keeping him off of her on either side of her tempting body. Harry gulped as he met her eyes, sultry, wanting, and reflecting his disheveled, lustrous appearance back to him.

Just as Harry bent down to kiss her lips, just as his hand reached the band of her skirt, just as his throbbing desire began to believe it would be satisfied, there was a forceful knock on the door. Harry had just enough time to leap off the desk and throw Pansy's shirt back over her bared and yearning breasts before the door flung up and Malfoy stepped into the room.

Draco stopped short of his tirade and quickly shut the door behind him. He threw an empty glance at Pansy propped up on her elbows on the desk, one hand holding her shirt tight to her chest, her hair disheveled, breathing ragged, and eyes wide with shock and fear. Malfoy's eyes did not linger more than a second, however. Quickly, his gaze found its target and settled on Harry's guilty blush and swollen lips.

"Potter, get your things, we're going for a drink. Now." He turned around and put his hand on the handle before he glanced back over his shoulder. "Pans, it's nothing I haven't seen before." He yanked the door open just enough to squeeze his brawny frame out and closed it tightly behind him.

They remained immobile for a few long seconds before Pansy clambered off the desk and threw her shirt back over her shoulder, hastening to fasten the buttons. "Harry, hurry up, he's waiting on you. Don't make it worse, huh?" she screeched.

Harry slowing began to straighten out his clothes. Pansy had just magicked the desk back into order when Harry grabbed her upper arm. "Have you slept with Malfoy before?"

"Have you fucked Weasley?"

Eyes rounding, Harry released her arm and shamefully lowered his gaze. "That's what I thought," Pansy replied. "Go, Potter. If Malfoy's asking you to drink with him, he's already hit rock bottom, let's not tempt his temper." Picking up his briefcase, she thrust it into his hands and gave him a small shove towards the door before she hurried into the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of green.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Firstly, I would like to explain the quote above. Ben Backstrom is a boy I graduated high school with two years ago. He was murdered this week back where I'm from. The details are still unknown. Although I was not close to Ben, he was involved in speech with me and he was in my classes. I come from a school small enough where you know pretty much everybody. He was a talkative, bright kid who loved nothing more than a good debate. The quote above is something his friend said he had once told them at his memorial service earlier this week. To you, Ben, thank you again for your beautiful life. **الله يحفظك**

Secondly, Belgium was fantastic, life since then, not so much. But it is slowly all work itself out, I'm just putting my faith in my heart and the powers that be. Again, I apologize for the long absence and I hope you all forgive me (I also hope you missed me enough for a nice long review?).

Lastly, I have started re-writing one of my older stories (it will be ten times better) and I hope to start posting it this summer, so look for that!


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **As promised, another chapter. It's all part of my master plan to procrastinate and do whatever possible to avoid studying for exams. I actually quite like this chapter, but, I must admit, the next one is even better :)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Even Gabriel is gone now.

Read, Review, & Enjoy!

_"What happens to a man is less significant than what happens within him."_

_**-Louis L. Mann**_

Harry watched as the blonde swallowed his third shot, his usually tidy hair sticking out in a few spots, his pale cheeks flushed from the vodka, his stormy grey eyes hooded and frustrated. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Malfoy about earlier…."

"Who Pansy fucks is none of my business, Potter. She doesn't get emotionally attached, thank Merlin, or I'd spend half of my time altering men's faces." He picked up his forth shot and gulped it down greedily, two still full and waiting on the bar.

"Why were you in my office? I told Ginny I was not to be disturbed." Harry's cheeks were burning in embarrassment but his initial guard had lowered as it became clear Malfoy was just going to, more or less, ignore the incriminating situation he had walked in on ten minutes ago.

Draco snorted at the words. "Yes, you were obviously cock-deep in state affairs." Another shot. "Look, Weasley won't even spare me a glance, so there was no way she was going to try to stop me from going into your office. I hate to break it to you, Potter, but your little weasel's pride is of the highest importance to her."

Harry chewed his tongue and settled more easily into the chair. He quickly ordered two firewhiskeys; Malfoy had run out of shots. This situation should have been awkward—Malfoy and he were at a muggle bar drinking together—but Harry found himself so relieved that Draco couldn't care less about finding him and Pansy about to make love on his desk, that he was actually starting to feel quite at ease. He downed the firewhiskey to help calm his remaining nerves. "So," he said at last, "why exactly are you and I drinking together?"

Malfoy ordered them four more drinks and turned his grey eyes to the minister. He mumbled something before downing the glass that the bartender had just set in front of him. When Harry didn't respond, Malfoy sighed and repeated himself. "I need your advice."

Harry choked on his drink. Words that he had never, in his wildest dreams, imagined leaving the spoiled, arrogant man had just reached his ears—and he was still sober. Slowly, he turned his eyes back to his companion, studying the hunched-over figure downing drink after drink. "Why would the great Draco Malfoy need my help?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Potter. Yes, we have our differences. Yes, one might say we hate each other. Yes, I just walked in on you trying to fuck my friend. Despite all of this, there are times when even a rich man must forget his pride and kneel before the beggar. I had hoped for it to never happen in my lifetime and I am sure my father is rolling over in his grave, but…Merlin, I have truly reached a new low." He reached out and gulped down another firewhiskey.

His mind was sparking with curiosity, but he smartly remained quiet, nodding for Malfoy to go on. "You want to shag Pansy?"

Cheeks burning, Harry reluctantly nodded. Malfoy and he would never be on amiable terms, but enough years had passed that they had learned to just cut to the chase with each other and save themselves the effort of bickering. Since Harry had recruited Malfoy when he had become Minister, they had tried their best to brush off the past and attempt to cohabitate in the same universe.

"Well, I'll help you with Pansy." He chuckled into his drink. "I know she's shagged a lot of men, but I never imagined she would run out and lower herself to your standards so soon." Harry ignored the jibe, reminding himself that Draco was drinking and as such, it was hard to fight old habits.

"Did you not understand what you walked in on earlier? I don't think I really need help with Pansy, do you?"

Malfoy smirked. "Being the savior of the Wizarding World has done wonders for your pride, Potter. It almost makes me wonder why you weren't a Slytherin." His slender pale hand brought another glass to his lips and he downed its contents, signaling the bartender for more. Harry finished up his second firewhiskey. "Speaking of people who should have been Slytherins, you and Weasley used to date, right?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and nodded suspiciously, wondering why in the world Malfoy was drowning his sorrows on account of Ginny. He soon found his answer.

"I need your advice on how to…you know…get on her good side. I may have done something to piss the siren off."

"Why do you care? I mean, why does it matter if Ginny likes you or not? If you're worried about working with her temper, I can relieve you of your duty and get someone else—"

"Potter, do us a favor and shut up. I am being—what's the word?—ah, humble and you need to just keep your mouth shut, Minister, and let me get it out." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Merlin, I may be drunk." He reached out and grabbed the last remaining firewhiskey and quickly downed it. Leaning forward, he trapped Harry with a pointed stare and smiled wickedly. "I want Weasley."

Harry pulled back. "I'm sorry?"

Draco chortled. "I want to fuck her brains out, just like you do, Pansy. We're adults now, _Minster_ and we should be allowed to fuck whoever we want, right? No Hogwarts, no house rivalries, no war. Why can't I have her?"

Despite Malfoy's obviously less than honorable intentions towards Ginny, Harry's lips turned upwards a bit. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Malfoy's eyebrows creased in thought. "Ginny is a grown woman, Malfoy. Although I think sleeping with you is well below her, if she wants to, so be it. As you said, we should be allowed to _fuck_ whoever we want."

"Language, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes at his increasingly intoxicated colleague. "What did you do to piss Gin off?"

Malfoy waved his hand nonchalantly. "That is between her and me. I need you to tell me how to fix it."

"Did she ever like you in the first place? I'm not sure even I can fix twenty-four years of mutual hatred. In fact, it might even be ingrained in her blood."

"Potter…."

Harry chucked, enjoying Malfoy's discomfort at having to ask him for help. As to Malfoy's sudden interest in Ginny, well, he would have to think on that later, when his head wasn't clouded in a haze of alcohol and lust. "I'll tell you what she likes," he conceded at last. "But that is all I can do for you, Malfoy. And Pansy?"

"I thought you didn't need help with her? Or did I not see her squirming under you, begging for you to end her misery?" Draco's grin was knowing and taunting.

The bartender cleared the empty glasses in front of them and Harry ordered four more fire-whiskeys. "I'm not drunk enough for this discussion."

"Then drink, Minister." Draco leaned closer, his pale grey eyes twinkling in the barlight. "I know exactly what you need to do to satisfy Pansy, Potter. I promise you, she will be begging you for more. But first, tell me, when did this whole thing between you and Pansy start?"

Harry reached for the new drink and gulped it uneasily. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with giving you advice in order to get into Ginny's knickers. She's like my little sister."

"A little sister you shag on occasion?" At Harry's reddening cheeks, Malfoy smirked. "Everybody knew, Potter. In fact, most still think you two have a romp in the sack on occasion."

Harry heard the unsaid 'except me' in Malfoy's words and he lowered his head to hide his guilty red flush. "Just tell me why is has to be Ginny, Malfoy," he said at last, his gaze concentrated on the brown liquid in his glass. "Like I said, what Ginny does is her own business, and I have no doubt that she'll turn you down outright, no matter how charming you think you are."

Malfoy held back a glare and responded simply, "I always get what I want and right now, I want Ginny Weasley."

"But why?"

"Because she is the one thing I shouldn't." His voice was slurred slightly with alcohol, but his eyes were still clear and Harry knew that Malfoy was not easily affected by alcohol. He was speaking honestly and the Minister was a bit taken aback at the dragon's sincerity.

Harry sighed and finished another firewhiskey before replying softly, "I think, Malfoy, I know exactly what you mean."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hope you guys enjoyed it and I hope you'll review, I haven't had any of those in a while. The next chapter is written (a 2.30am product that I am very fond of) and I will try to put it up soon, however it might be the only one I give you this month as I do actually have exams and packing and end-of-the-year things to do. Until then, take care, my lovelies.


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** My lovely reader, as promised! I hope I have not made you wait too long. I am in exams however, and on the side have been insanely busy finishing up an Arabic film with my tutor (if we get it up somewhere online, I will be sure to let you all know, for it is truly amazing--and subtitled, fear not).

Also, I apologize in advance for my british-isms that are sneaking their way in here. You will see 'fit' later on--it means 'hot'. At least I've kept the spelling American, but 2 years in this country is starting to have it's effect of me. Thank goodness I'll be home in a week and a half!

**Disclaimer: **Per usual, I own nothing, only the usage of the wonderful language that is English is mine.

As always, Read, Review, & Enjoy!

**_'He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long itno an abyss,t he abyss gazes also into you.'_**

**_~Friedrich Nietzsche_**

Ginny cradled the picture in her hands, her finger tracing the laughing faces in the frame, the pyramids of Egypt behind them, simmering in the hot summer sun. She felt a familiar tug at her heart and closed her eyes to the pain, wishing that one day she could look at this photo and smile without the heavy weight of regret and the blinding hatred she felt bubbling within her when she thought of the war. A war that had taken her family and her friends. A war that had ripped her dreams to shreds and thrown her future into a dark nothingness. Ginny survived day by day; she forced herself out of bed in the mornings and into it at night, praying for a peaceful night's sleep. Every day was a constant reminder of death, of shattered hope, of hate. It was still there, lingering in their visages, evident in the eyes of the survivors: the touch of evil, the knowledge that there was indeed a hell on Earth.

She placed the picture gently back on her bedside table. Reaching up, she ruffled her hair and forced herself to smile, remember how she used to laugh loudly and carefree. Finally, her thoughts settled on Charlie and his promise to visit in a few months' time. To be with her brother again would at least bring some temporary happiness to her life, some solace to her wandering soul. Ginny squirmed her way down her bed, burying herself in her cool covers and feather duvet. Just as she reached over for the light, she heard a loud thump against her door. She sat up slowly, alert. War had taught her that every noise was a potential threat, especially if it was when you were least prepared. Ginny retrieved her wand from her bedside table and pulled back the covers, slithering out of bed and into her slippers. Her nightdress fell back down to her knees as she stood and cautiously shuffled to the door.

"Who is it?" she whispered loudly.

Another thump. "Weasley—lemme in, for Merlin's beard."

Ginny's heart leapt from her chest at the voice. _Malfoy?_ What in the world was he doing on her doorstep in the middle of the night and—no doubt, by the sounds of it—intoxicated? Ginny smacked her head gently against the door, cursing her rotten luck. The people she loved she could never see again, no matter how much she longed for it, but the only man in the world she wished would disappear from her sight forever never seemed to leave her alone.

Two loud thumps shook her from her short self-pity trip. "Weaslette, open the door, for the love of—"

Ginny whipped the door open at his thunderous shouting and quickly pulled his shaky, drunken figure into her apartment. She closed the door and pushed him towards the living room.

"Malfoy, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here? It's nearly two in the morning," she tried to keep her voice low, but every word was encased with venomous hatred.

Malfoy smiled languidly and took a step towards her, his face half silhouetted in the moonlight. His hair gleamed silver and his pale cheeks were flushed red. Ginny couldn't decide whether he looked like an angle or a demon. "You didn't have to let me in."

His seemingly sober words had her blinking quickly. "You're not drunk?"

Draco smirked. "I sobered up a while ago."

She stepped closer, threateningly, her hands on her hip, her brown eyes flashing in the dark room. The strength she gave off made up for her short height and she almost seemed to be looking down at him when she asked, accusingly, "Then why were you creating a ruckus in my corridor?"

"You know what your problem is, Gin-gin?" He closed the gap between them and rested a hand heavily on her shoulder. "You are too uptight, love."

Ginny shrugged away from his touch. "Leave."

He merely lifted an eyebrow indifferently and headed for the couch, settling himself in the middle of it. Ginny let out a large, angry huff. "Malfoy, why are you here?"

Studying his fingernails meticulously, he didn't even spare her a glance, her anger seemingly amusing him. "When a man is drunk, Weasley, he thinks about a lot of things and he is forced to face a lot of truths."

She rolled her eyes, but decided to humor him. "For instance?"

"For instance…where he wants to be when he wakes up in the morning. Does he want it to be in some cheap hotel room where he was dumped? Does he want it to be next to a fit girl whose name he can't even recall? Or does he just want to be home in his own bed in his own house?" Ginny sighed impatiently, signaling that she was waiting for him to get to the point. Malfoy met her eyes at last. "I don't do cheap hotel rooms nor do I sleep with women that I'm not positive as to where they've been. As for my bed? It's a bit cold and lonely these days. In short, Ginevra Weasley, I came to the stark realization that I wanted to be here."

She snorted loudly, crudely. "Why on Earth would you want to be here? I hate you, Malfoy. I hate you so much I can't even begin to describe it, for there are no words." She took a few steps towards him. "My hatred goes beyond Malfoy/Weasley, beyond Slytherin/Gryffindor. It even goes beyond Death Eater/Order Member." Soon she found herself practically on top of him, looking down on him, her eyes locked on his, berating him. "You are the most vile, despicable man I have ever met. I have a theory that Lucifer himself spawned you and maliciously released you on Earth to torture mankind, giving you the face of an angle simply for deception.

"You are the villain, Malfoy; you are the oppressor, the tyrant, the monster, the murderer. You are Judas, you are Grindelwald, you are Voldemort. You are every bit of sadistic, greedy, selfish, masochistic that you find in human beings all rolled into one giant enigma. Where there is light, you bring darkness, in harmony, chaos, in happiness, suffering, in love, hate. I had never realized that your wickedness reached your core until two weeks ago, but now that I have I want nothing to do with you. I didn't plan on speaking to you ever again, for fear that your cold calculating ways would worm their way into my life and plant a dark, immoral seed in the heart of me that I could never get out."

Several moments passed in absolute silence when Ginny's tirade had ended. At last, Malfoy gave a low whistle. "I have never met anyone that understood me as well as you do, Weasley. And to compliment me thus…." A small smile reached his lips. "You're talking to me again."

Ginny's mouth tightened at his words. "You—you—you insufferable man! Out, get out of my house! Get out of my life!"

Malfoy stood up quickly and he was suddenly so close to Ginny that she stopped breathing for fear that the toxic scent of his cologne would weave a malicious spell on her. "Why do you hate me?"

She stuttered for a second, not sure how to respond. "You represent everything I hate," she said at last. "To me, you represent those who took my family from me, those who crushed my dreams and my future in the palm of their hands, and those who killed everything that was good and right in this world."

He sighed and reached out to grab her shoulders. She struggled but he tightened his hold, waiting until she'd resigned the fight before speaking. "I know you like to believe that I am everything bad in this world. By thinking that, it makes it easy. Hate me and you are good. Don't trust me and you will be safe. Take revenge on me and you will avenge all the wrong that was done. Hating me makes the world seem simple. It makes right and wrong seem so clear cut. There is a black and a white, a good and an evil, a wrong and a right.

"You are not wrong to say that I am cruel. I am a cold, selfish man who goes to whatever means to get what he wants. But you cannot try to encompass all the evils of this world into one figure. Hating me, getting rid of me, taking your anger out on me…it won't get rid of the evils left over from the war, Weaslette. It won't take away the memories and it won't make the world a better place. I am not the only bad person in this world. And you know, perhaps better than I, that not everything is so easily definable. The lines between love and hatred, good and bad, wrong and right are often blurred and undistinguishable because we all, as human beings, tread these lines. We all make mistakes, we all give into temptation, and we all have moments where we are uncertain."

Draco sighed deeply and released her shoulders slowly. "We cannot see the end result, Weasley. We cannot possible know all the consequences of our actions. As such, we are prone to errors. We are all scarred with the pain and regret of the past. I know you want to think that I am the bad guy in this scenario, but it just isn't that simple, love."

Ginny's eyes were full of furious tears. She stepped away from Malfoy and wiped the corners of her eyes, restraining the water threatening to escape. "Don't pretend you can possibly understand how I feel, _Malfoy_. Don't pretend you have suffered as I have. Don't you dare, for one second, believe that you have any right to tell me about the evil in this world." Quickly, Ginny fled from the room, shutting her bedroom door loudly behind her and locking it with a charm.

On one side of the door, a redhead slid down the wooden frame, dissolving into heart-wrenching tears as the words of the Slytherin resounded in her head. She couldn't hide from the truth that was in them. She gasped several times, trying to slow the flow, but she only managed to start hiccoughing. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she prayed for sleep to come and relieve her of this newfound weight in her heart--something akin to guilt--and the flood of mixed emotions now rushing through her body.

On the other side, Malfoy fell back onto the couch. He shrugged off his cloak and pulled it across him as he lay down, settling his head onto the armrest. Potter had been spot-on. Ginny's hatred stemmed from the fact that she blamed him for everything. It made sense; he was the only 'evil' that remained in her life and, with everything good having left her, she couldn't help but see him as the cause of it all. Forcing her to realize all of this, however, was only the first step. Malfoy honestly couldn't figure out why he was going to all this trouble. However, their spat had riled feelings inside him as well; he was feeling guilt for all the things he had done, especially towards Ginny, and he was angry at the fact that she could just blame him for his past as though he had ever had a choice. _'Don't pretend you can possibly understand how I feel, Malfoy. Don't pretend you have suffered as I have' _she had said.

Malfoy sighed and shut his eyes. _Weasley, if only you knew. You are the one who cannot possibly understand._

**Author's Note: **Hope you guys enjoyed, I'm actually quite proud of this baby. It looks shorter, but its actually I think the longest chapter so far. Next chapter probably won't come until next weekend at the earliest (due to exams and packing to head home, back to the good ol' US of A). Be patient until then, lovelies, and I would ADORE a review!


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **Hey y'all. Well I survived exams and made it back home, and it is so great to be here. i hope I haven't kept you waiting to long and I hope you'll like this chapter, I do. And, considering the ending, I expect comments :))

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing :( It all belongs to the one and only JK Rowling.

As always, Read, Review & Enjoy!

**_"Le baiser est la plus sûre façon de se taire en disant tout."_**

The pounding was loud, insistent. Pansy groaned and rolled over in her bed, trying to ignore the noise set on pulling her from her slumber. When it continued unyielding, she finally opened her eyes, a disgruntled and infuriated look on her face. She yanked off the covers and headed for the door, her feet heavy, intent on making whoever was behind all that racket pay. Reaching the door, she grabbed the knob and pulled it open, causing the body behind it to stumble ungracefully inside.

"Potter?"

The Minister straightened himself and brought his bloodshot eyes to meet her gaze. A goofy grin spread slowly across his face. "Pansy." He spread his arms out and headed towards her but she dodged his embrace, sending him running into the wall.

He pulled back and, rubbing his nose, turned to give her a pained, dejected look. Pansy rolled her eyes and closed the door. "Potter, you're plastered."

"No, I had maybe…a wee bit to…err…drink, but I am abso-fucking-lutely…." Abandoning the search for appropriate vocabulary, Harry merely pointed to his head with a grin.

She crossed her arms over her chest. Yes, she wanted to kiss him, snog him senseless, even fuck him, but she would _not_ babysit him. "You are not in your right mind. Go home before you chunder on my carpets."

"Pansy," he whined like a two-year-old. "Pansy, lemme stay 'ere. I wanna be with you." He moved near her, grabbing her hands with his, staring at her until she finally met his bright green eyes.

Pansy sighed and rolled her eyes, wrenching her hands from his grasp. "Harry, I don't like drunken men."

His lips began to pout before his eyes suddenly widened and he grinned happily like a child. He began searching frantically in his pockets, at last emerging triumphantly with his wand in his hand. Pointing it to his forehead, he whispered something softly, and Pansy watched as the alcohol glaze disappeared from his eyes. The bastard had just sobered himself up and now Pansy had no excuse to kick him out so she could get back to her beauty sleep.

The thought of returning to sleep, however, was quickly forgotten as Harry advanced towards her again. He captured her with his left arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. His right hand reached up to caress her face, her pale skin cool under his warm, tanned hand. "I needed the alcohol to give me courage, Pansy, but from this moment on, I want to be completely sober so I can remember every moment."

Leaning forward, he captured her lips in a heady kiss, his hand sliding to capture a handful of hair. Pansy moaned as the desire for Harry she'd been hiding for years came rushing back to her. She wanted Harry. His messy hair, his big, awkward hands, and his chapped lips. She wanted to feel him on top of her, inside of her. Maybe it was because they were so different. Maybe it was because there were times she couldn't stand him. Or maybe it was just wanting something she shouldn't. Whatever it was, Pansy let Harry have her that night, in the way both of them wanted: passionate, heated, and nothing but raw emotion.

* * *

The next day, Ginny woke to the crackling of something in a frying pan and a wonderful smell she had difficulty placing, for it had been a long time since she had cooked anything in that kitchen. Slowly, she pulled herself out of bed, disoriented and trying to figure out why something felt out of the ordinary. She rubbed her eyes and fussed with her hair. Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned. When her stomach let out a low growl, it hit her. Someone was cooking breakfast. Someone that was not her was cooking breakfast in her kitchen.

She pulled the bedroom door open quickly, forgetting to take her wand, forgetting to be suspicious. A head of white blonde hair caught her off guard for only a moment before the memories of last night came flooding back to her in a whirlwind. Malfoy. She felt her anger begin to build inside of her. He was infuriating, arrogant, pushy, and last night he had been…absolutely right. Frustrated, she let out a growl.

Malfoy whipped around and, upon spotting her, smirked. "Good morning. Do you like your eggs soft, hard, or scrambled?"

She blinked, grasping the door frame to stop her from collapsing, reassuring herself that this must be some very bizarre dream. There was no way that Draco Malfoy was in her kitchen, cooking her breakfast. She took several long breaths, closing her eyes and willing herself to wake up. After several long seconds, she finally gave up. Dreaming or not, apparently Malfoy wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Did you stay here last night?"

He shrugged a shoulder and turned back to the hovering frying pan, flicking his wand and cracking open two eggs. "I was hardly in a condition to Apparate."

She scoffed. "I know perfectly well that you weren't drunk."

She couldn't see his face, but she knew he smirked. "Does it flatter you that I wanted to stay here?"

Ginny sauntered towards him, stopping in the kitchen doorway. "It scares the bloody hell out of me."

He turned, the smirk still plastered on his flawless face. She wanted to sigh at his arrogance and, simultaneously, scream at his perfection, but she suppressed both. She spied already-cooked sausages on the table, a heating charm cast to keep them warm, and a jug of orange juice. "I didn't know you cooked."

"Weasley, its casting a few simple spells. I assure you that I am more than capable."

Rolling her eyes, she sat down at the kitchen table, reaching over to pour herself a glass of juice. Malfoy set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her and seated himself on the chair opposite. "Bon appétit."

"Why are you here? Why are you being nice to me?" She didn't move to eat the food, just held the glass in her hands, swirling the liquid inside around and around.

Malfoy sighed and gave her a pointed look. "Eat your food first, Weaslette, or it'll get cold."

Cautiously, she picked up her fork and shoveled some of the egg into her mouth. Then she reached out and stabbed at a sausage, savagely taking a bite before setting it and the fork back onto her plate. She rose her eyebrows as she chewed as if to say 'there, happy?' Malfoy just rolled his eyes and shook his head in response.

Ginny finished chewing and swallowed. "About last night…I should probably—oh Merlin, I can't believe I'm going to say this—apologize to you. You were partially right. I guess there is a part of me who does blame you for everything and I—"

"Good, you can take me out to properly apologize."

"Excuse me?"

Draco tried to hold back a smile at the incredulous look on her face. One moment, she had her head bowed, mumbling an apology, and the next she had her arms across her chest, sending him stink eyes. Oh yes, he would break her, and he would enjoy every second of it.

"Don't you think dinner is a suitable way to apologize for your maltreatment of me last night?"

She scoffed. "You are the one that barged into my home, uninvited, in the middle of the night where you then proceeded to insult me with your petty little theories before passing out on my sofa. Thinking about it now, I'm not even sure I owe you so much as an 'I'm sorry'."

Malfoy smirked. Ginny lost it. Before she knew it, she was on her feet in front of him, her hand poised a breath away from his cheek. Draco didn't blink, he didn't take his gaze from hers; only his chest moved up and down as he breathed. Ginny stood there like that for a while, searching his eyes for answers. Finally, in a harsh voice, she asked, "Why aren't you trying to stop me?"

He blinked. "Because I've been waiting for this for two weeks. Hit me, Weasley."

Suddenly, it was difficult to swallow and to breathe. She continued staring, but slowly lowered her hand. He caught her wrist. "What?" she asked, her voice trembling underneath the harsh tone.

"I won't let you change your mind," he responded. He tightened his grip on her wrist, his eyes still locked on hers. "Don't change your mind. Don't feel sorry for me."

Wrenching free of his grasp, she took a step back. "I'm not pitying you, Malfoy. I'm refusing to slap you because it's what you need to feel better about what you did. I won't give you that pleasure." Ginny's lip curved upward in a snarl. "I want you to wallow in what you did. If you're feeling guilty—which would certainly be a first—then I want you to feel the weight of it for as long as humanly possible. Perhaps for the rest of your life."

His chair scraped on the floor as he hurried to stand. Ginny tried to back towards the door, but he had already caught her waist in his strong grasp. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark like stone. Ginny swallowed in fear, but displayed nothing apart from resolute hatred on her face. Draco smirked again. _Merlin, how I hate that god-forsaken smirk_, she thought. After several long moments had passed without a word from him, without a retort, she finally considered struggling to free herself. It was at that moment, when she brought her hands up to capture his on her waist in order to push him away, that he lowered his head unexpectedly and quickly, stopping only when his lips were barely touching hers.

"I must be crazy," he whispered. She felt his rough lips move against hers and the sensation of his breath on her mouth sent a shiver down her body until the goose bumps reached her toes. "I can't fight it anymore, Ginevra."

Ginny's mind was still working through his words for some semblance of comprehension when he finally captured her lips in a shameful, needy kiss.

**Author's Note: **Okay, now if I don't get a decent number of reviews after THAT, I'm tempted to forget to update :P Hope you're all enjoying the start of summer! (p.s. I passed all my exams, yay!)


	16. Chapter 15

**Author's Notes: **Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, my avid readers. I have missed you. This chapter took me a while to finish, but I hope you will be happy with the result. And, for those of you allowed to enjoy the freedom that summer brings, I hope you are having a great time.

**Disclaimer: **Again, I own nothing...

Read, Review and Enjoy!

**_The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. _**

**_ ~Oscar Wilde_**

Part of Ginny wanted to pull away. Most of her knew she should pull away. However, the tiny part of her that had her heart pounding in her chest so loud it was all she could hear, let her relax and reach up to put her arms around Malfoy's neck. Ginny could feel his smirk on his lips as she finally began kissing him back. His arms grasped her waist firmly and pulled her to him as tight as he could. His tongue traced her lips and she parted them to let him inside.

Ginny felt as though her mind had shut off. Surely, she had at least lost all common sense, allowing Draco Malfoy to be in her kitchen all but ravaging her. His tongue was massaging hers, plunging in and out of her mouth, keeping her helpless and captive to his will. She allowed herself to sink into him and falling into his broad, muscular chest felt safe and comforting, not at all how she had expected it to feel. His hands were stroking her lower back softly, gently and she let out a moan of pleasure into his mouth. The moan provoked his ego, for his hands began to wander and his tongue quickened, becoming more insistent, more demanding. His fingers trailed a butterfly path across her stomach and wandered up to grab her breasts, cradling one in each hand. As his thumbs flicked over her taut nipples, his teeth clamping down on her lower lip, she gasped and wrenched away from his lips, startled back to reality.

She didn't dare meet his eyes until he'd relaxed his arms and she'd slithered away from him. Shamefully, she raised her gaze. He was studying her, his eyes guarded, his lips slightly red and wet from his taste of her.

Draco watched her, the heavy rise and fall of her chest, the pink swelling of her lips, her firm nipples visible through her thin nightshirt. Her fiery locks were mussed and her eyes were on fire, her humiliation evident. However, there was something else there shining in them, desire. He smirked.

"Wh—why?" she managed to get out at last, avoiding his intense gaze. He didn't answer, just continued staring, waiting for her to meet his eyes again, longing to see the desire for him that was obvious in her eyes. He wanted to see that she wanted him, that it wasn't his imagination, that he wasn't the only one lusting for her. He longed to see her recognize that he hadn't taken her, but that she had wanted it.

"Why?" she asked again, searching his eyes this time. "Why did you…do that?"

He took a deep breath, prolonging the moment, relishing her uncertainty, relishing the fact that her current sanity seemed to be dependent on his answer.

He shrugged. "Because I wanted to."

"To what? Shut me up? Prove your point? To drive me even crazier than you already have?" Her breathing was heavy again, the red glazing on her cheeks deepening from anger. No, he decided, it wasn't anger. She was embarrassed and ashamed of herself for giving into him.

He took a step closer to her, challenging her hold on her emotions. Would her shame force her to back away from him or would her stubborn pride keep her where she stood? She didn't move, though he detected a nervous swallow. Reaching out, Draco tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her gaze diverted, but still she stood strong.

"Think whatever you want, Weasley. I did not kiss you for some sick sort of revenge nor to play head games with you. It was merely a question of"—he leaned down to whisper in her ear, his breath teasing her as he spoke—"lust."

Ginny pulled back at last and swatted his hand away from her face. "Whatever it is, it will not happen again, Malfoy. Now I would appreciate if you got out of my flat and forgot this entire visit." She turned to head back to her room but before she had taken a step she whipped back around.

"And don't come back here, ever."

Malfoy fought back a smirk. She desired him, most likely as much as he did her, but she was trying as hard as she could to deny it. Reaching out, he grabbed her elbow firmly.

"Why don't we call a truce, Weasley?"

She scoffed. "A truce? I wasn't aware the war was still ongoing, Malfoy. I thought it was quite clear you had won."

Her voice was bitter and hateful and, oddly, it stung him. "Don't tell me you retreat so easily, Weaslette. Yes, I won the battle, but I never considered our fight over. In fact," his grip tightened, "I felt like I was lying in wait the past two weeks, waiting to see what the enemy had planned."

"That's right," she spit out forcefully, "we're enemies. A fact you would do well to remember the next time you want to express your _lust_." Ginny wrenched her arm free of his grip.

Malfoy felt the fire building up in him now, creeping from his chest down to his loins. An angry Ginevra Weasley was a craving too powerful for him to ignore. He reached out and grabbed her again, pulling her to him and ramming his mouth down on top of hers. Ginny tried to utter a protest, but Draco merely used the opportunity to delve his tongue inside. He held her struggling body again him, willing for her to give into the want that he knew was inside of her; the burning desire that she felt for her enemy, no matter how much she tried to deny it.

Ginny was struggling to free herself, struggling to hang onto her dignity and pull away from his assault before her womanly wiles betrayed her again and she gave in. She tried to push against his chest but his arms held her tight to him. His hand was holding her head to his and she couldn't even find space to turn it. Finally, she abandoned her struggle, ready to just give in to the feelings Malfoy was stirring up in her. Cautiously, she began to respond to his assuaging tongue. Malfoy practically purred in her mouth at the long-awaited reaction.

Suddenly, he pulled away. Confused, Ginny fell from his now lax grasp. She reached up and felt her swollen lips, her eyes concentrated on the floor. She heard Draco's robe rustle as he bent down to whisper something in her ear. Then, he straightened and headed for the door. Ginny heard it click into place behind him and she turned to wander back into her bedroom.

Closing her door, she shuffled over to her bed and crawled underneath the covers. She felt sick to her stomach, weak and vulnerable. All those years of fighting her feelings around him, all those years of turning her desire for Malfoy into anger had just ended. Yes, in Hogwarts, Ginny had been attracted to the snake, no matter how much she had tried to fight against it. It didn't matter how cruel and hateful Draco had been to her or her friends, it didn't matter how much Lucius had hurt her time and time again, her feelings never abated. The pull she felt around him was something she had tried to ignore and fight for years. But all her struggling didn't seem to matter; even when she put all the blame on him, even when she exposed all the evilness that was deep inside of him, there was always a part of her that was pulled towards him, like a magnet.

She closed her eyes, willing herself back to sleep where she could forget about everything that had happened between her and Malfoy. Ginny prayed that when she woke up, the world would be right again; she would ignore Malfoy and he would continue to insult her endlessly. As she felt herself slipping into a world without rules and without consequences, Malfoy's parting words reverberated through her mind, lulling her into an abyss of endless possibilities.

_You can fight it all you want, Gin-gin, but I will always find a way to remind you that you desire me, that you want me, the one person you shouldn't. In this battle, you will lose._

_

* * *

_

Harry forced his eyes open despite the sun's blinding light flooding in from Pansy's window, covered only by a thin white curtain. Struggling against his blurred vision, he sat up and swung over the bed, placing his bare feet on the floor. The body next to him shifted and let out a soft moan. Harry glanced over, laughing when he saw Pansy's hair veiling her face. He reached over and brushed it aside. That was when he knew he should leave.

Standing, he spotted his jeans and began tugging them on. Just as he was buttoning them, a soft, feminine 'hello' came from the bed. Pansy pulled herself up, smoothing down her hair and tucking it behind her ears. Harry found the sight odd, to be frank; he had never seen Parkinson looking so feminine and human.

"To be honest, I'm surprised you're still here."

"I was just leaving."

Harry didn't move, however. Pansy raised an eyebrow, questioningly, and then sighed. "Why does it feel like we've done something wrong, Potter? I feel like I should be ashamed, like I've slept with the enemy."

"Because the war never really ended, Pansy." He wandered over and sat down next to her, on the edge of the bed. "We feel guilty because we know, no matter how much time passes, there were once sides and we were more or less on opposite ones."

"No one can know. You're the Minister and I'm a Slytherin whose family hid from any alliance. I'm a coward and you're a hero, don't you know?" Her voice was bitter, dripping with sarcasm. Her delicate feminine allure had dissipated and her Slytherin mask was back in place, firmly.

"There are some who say that wars are never-ending. The memory of it remains from generation to generation. Even the sentiments carry over. Voldemort may be dead and the war officially declared at an end, but we will live with it forever."

Pansy met his green orbs. "They would be better off if they just moved on." Her words were factual, emotionless. Harry tried to find some meaning to her words in her golden brown eyes, but they were unreadable, cold and distant.

"Maybe," he replied at last.

"Maybe? Potter, if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got. If the Wizarding world lives in the war forever, a war that is over, they will never reap the benefits of the result." Her voice was harsh and—Harry almost wanted to say passionate—but again, the tone was too cold to draw meaning from.

"Why are we having this conversation, Parkinson?"

"You mean, why do I care if all you and I are doing is fucking, don't you, Minister?" She leaned forward, her eyes locked on his, holding him in place. The ghost of a smile flitted across her lips. She stopped a breath away from his lips.

"I don't, I was just making conversation to spare us both the awkwardness of this morning." Leaning forward, Pansy kissed him hard and then clambered out of the bed and stalked to the bathroom. Once the door had shut, Harry stood, shrugged on his remaining clothes and found his way to the door. It was morning and he had a cluttered desk of paperwork before him this weekend. As he stepped out into the hallway and let Pansy's door fall closed behind him, Harry left behind a night of lust and passion and entered the reality of day; anything could happen in the dark secrecy of the night, but in the daylight, divisions remained, differences were remembered and the people were forced to live their life as is expected of them. For Harry, he was the Minister of the Wizarding World, a hero, a Gryffindor and someone who had pieced his life back together. The Harry that suffered insomnia thanks to nightmares of faces long gone, who fell into bed with the enemy in order to forget it all and who longed in the night for a sense of normalcy he would never again find was hidden from the world, in the dark of the night.

**Author's Note: **Please comment? Pretty pretty please? :)))


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I do not and never would claim to own anything from the magical world created by JK Rowling one day on a train.

**Author's Note:** I am so sorry it has been such a long wait! There was writer's block, Syria, marriage... it's been a very long and complicated year. But alas, I am determined to finish this story and not let any of you down!

**All thoughts, all passions, all delights**  
**Whatever stirs this mortal frame**  
**All are but ministers of Love**  
**And feed his sacred flame.**

** ~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge**

Monday afternoon came quickly. Ginny and Harry had barely spoken the entire day; Ginny, of course, knew why she was avoiding looking him in the eye, avoiding any chat that wasn't business-related, but why was he doing the same? Her answer came sooner than she would have thought.

Harry walked out of his office, his robe draped over his arm, a briefcase in his hand. He stopped in front of her desk, leaning on the edge of it with his free hand.

"I'm leaving early today, Ginny. I trust you and Malfoy can be civilized and get everything done tonight? I know a lot of paperwork piled up over the weekend." Ginny finally looked up at him, her brown eyes locking on his bright green orbs. There it was, her answer. His eyes had the same weight of guilt in them that hers had carried all weekend, haunting her every time she glanced into the mirror, reminding her of weakness.

"We'll manage, Harry, don't worry. Rare to see you take off early, I'm glad." She reached out and placed her hand gently on his. "Go. Relax. Try to remember that you're still a young man."

Harry scoffed. "Young and innocent, I never was; young and foolish, briefly. Now I am just young and old and quite the contradiction." He sighed heavily. "We are none of us young anymore, dearest. Our wary eyes have seen far too much for us to fit in with anything that corresponds with being young. Even our bodies have been pushed to the limits. Our age may still be designated as 'young,' Ginny, but age is just a number."

She gave a small smile in response and squeezed his hand gently. "Then let us be old and lively. We lived, Harry, we can't ever forget that."

The glass door swung open and the intruder stopped dead in their tracks, eyes locked on the interesting scene before them. Ginny's eyes widened guiltily and she hastily released Harry's hands, lowering her head to avoid Malfoy's penetrating gray gaze. Harry frowned slightly at Ginny's sudden change in demeanor and turned his head curiously towards the door. Malfoy gave him a nod in greeting and Harry returned the gesture. He returned his face to Ginny and narrowed his eyes, an interested eyebrow raised. Ginny would not look up from the desktop.

Finally, Harry relented. "Well, I'm off then," he announced loudly. Then, in softer tones only she would hear, "Don't work too hard."

As he exited the office, brushing Malfoy's shoulder lightly on his way out, he decided to make a detour to find out if Pansy knew what exactly had happened between Ginny and Malfoy. As Ginny had been able to read the guilt in his eyes, he could see the shame and embarrassment in hers. Something was going on between the snake and the roaring redhead, and he was determined to find out what. Though his affair with Pansy was his own, he knew Ginny too well to believe for a second that she and Malfoy could possibly just be shagging.

Harry's emotions twisted inside of him as he made his way to the Auror Department; he felt guilt for having left Ginny alone with Malfoy when something had clearly happened between the two, however he also felt a small burst of happiness as he thought that perhaps, like himself with Pansy, Ginny had found some hope in this world at last. Harry mentally scowled. His situation with Pansy was very confusing to say the least. Naturally, he felt a pull to her. Being with her over the weekend had been the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time, yet he really couldn't afford to be involved with her. At first, he had always dismissed his want and desire as rampant teenage hormones, but now, he found that he still wanted her—desperately. And, to top it all off, he wasn't sure if it was just sex that he wanted. He felt at ease in her presence, comfortable with himself. He almost felt alive again when he was around her. She set him on fire, whether with passion or on occasion anger. She was so spirited that he felt an energy the likes of which he had not experienced since long before the war had ended—perhaps even in his entire life.

His feet had led him to her while his mind had danced back and forth, debating his emotions. She was sitting at her desk, scribbling madly with quill. He cleared his throat, though he would have been more than content to just stare at her a while. He chided himself again.

"Harry!" she said, slightly taken aback. She stood and got close to him so she could ask in a low voice, "What are you doing here?"

"Do you know what's happened between Ginny and Malfoy?"

Her face dropped ever so slightly, something that only someone who had once studied her so intently would notice. Harry wondered why his question would cause this reaction and then a thought permeated that suggested perhaps Pansy still held feelings for Malfoy after all these years.

"I do," she replied sparsely. Then, she turned and began gathering up papers from her desk. Harry frowned, confused. As she went to walk past him, he reached out and grabbed her upper arm.

"What are you doing?"

"My job. Which has become much more difficult since you and your budget cuts intervened."

Harry was so surprised at her sudden change in demeanor that he couldn't find anything to say. So, without a second though, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. The papers in Pansy's arms fell to the floor as she stood, stiffed and shocked, unresponsive to Harry's show of affection. He pulled back and forced her to meet his eyes.

Pansy's eyes widened with sudden realization and began scanning the room. Unfortunately, it appeared that the few Aurors who were still present had not paid them any mind, or if they did see something, had the good sense to pretend they hadn't. She turned back to the Minister. "What was that for?"

"You were clearly upset," Harry said dismissively, as if that explained everything.

"Harry, we discussed this. One night of passion, that's all it was."

His eyes narrowed and his lips curved upwards in a very Slytherin manner. "Are you saying that you don't want anything more to do with me? That you would refuse me even if I was lying stark naked in your bed?"

Pansy pursed her lips. "Malfoy and Ginny kissed. It was quite heated from what I understand."

"That would explain her guilty expression."

"If you ask me, it's about damn time those two just gave into their wanton desires. It would do us all a world of good if they just took care of business and tempered the bickering."

"Well, Ginny and Malfoy are adults, they can take care of themselves." His hand was still grasping her arm, the papers still scattered on the floor.

"Indeed. Want to get out of here?"

"You read my mind. My place?"

"Perfect." The two quickly exited the room and rushed back to Harry's flat, their bodies aflame, leaving the papers and reason abandoned.

* * *

Ginny's cheeks burned, her gaze locked intensely on an ink stain on the dark cherry wood. She felt him come closer, even though he didn't make a sound. Soon, he was there before her, his hands palm down on the desk, his eyes penetrating her.

"Hello, Ginevra."

Slowly, she brought her head up to look at him, gulping heavily. Deep down, she knew that she was stronger than this. Deep down, she knew that she had the grace enough to politely greet him and continue on with their day as though nothing had transpired between the two. But the steamy memories invading her head, alongside with the rather erotic nightmares she had suffered all weekend, kept her from regaining her composure. In short, she felt rather like a school girl tripping and stumbling through her first crush.

"You and Potter appear rather chummy today. Have we been bonding?"

Ginny bit her lip, took a deep breath and opened her mouth, determined to be an adult about all of this. "My relationship with Harry has always been unique and it is one that no one else need understand."

Malfoy smirked. "And what of our relationship, my Weaslette? Need anyone understand that?"

She attempted to squander the blush rising in her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and fury. "Our relationship is just as it has always been, Malfoy; a very minimum tolerance of the other's existence in this world."

Draco began to snake his way around the desk, an indescribable expression on his face. Ginny gulped as he knelt before her. He placed his hand on her knee and began drawing slow, sensuous designs on her. "Ginny, Ginny, Ginny…."

Suddenly, faster than a blink, she was lying on her desk, Draco Malfoy towering above her. Ginny struggled to remain calm, but felt quite helpless—and slightly turned on. Draco leaned over her, his lips stopping a mere breath away from her own. "You know, my little minx," he said in a low, sultry voice, "I could take you here and now and I know that you would do absolutely nothing to stop me." He leaned in a bit more, allowing his lips to brush hers so briefly it was nothing but a whisper.

"You think I would actually allow you to?" she managed to squeak out. Her heart was racing, her sex throbbing between her thighs. A million different scenarios played out in her head—ways she could make her escape, ways she could finally reap her vengeance on him, ways she could slowly protest than give in…. Ginny knew that she would not have the strength to resist him if he did advance; her body's wants and desires were outweighing her own conscience. She mentally chided herself for being so weak, especially concerning Draco Malfoy.

Draco, on the other hand, was completely unaware of what he was doing. His plan for today had been to work alongside of her, throwing her steamy looks and brushing up against her as much as possible to drive her crazy with the memory of what had come to pass between them. However, when he had entered the room and found her in such an intimate position with Harry Potter, the green dragon inside of him roared to life. Draco didn't want to wait anymore, he wanted to make Ginny Weasley his. He wanted to mount her, to feel her moan beneath him—the sound of his name whispered from those sweet lips, to feel her orgasm because of him, to know that she would forever be marked by him. Draco tightened at the thought. He peered down at her, wild and rampage with desire.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "S-sorry? For what?"

His eyes narrowed in lust and frustration. "I cannot control myself anymore, I must have you for my own."

"Wh—" Ginny was cut off by the crushing force of Draco's lips on hers. This kiss was frustration, desire, fury, primal need and most of all, self-contempt. He hated himself for losing control, he hated himself for breaking his hard façade and he absolutely despised himself for wanting Ginny as much as he did.

She was kissing him back. This time, she didn't even try to fight it. Her body longed for him, her hips thrusting upwards towards his bulging desire as his tongue plunged in and out of her mouth. His hand found its way to her waist and then slithered up under her sweater to massage her breast. Ginny moaned as he caressed his nipple between his thumb and finger, teasing her. At the sound of her moan, he pulled back to yank her sweater and tank top from her body. He quickly unclasped her bra and brought his lips down to her taught nipples, taking them in turns, sucking, nipping, licking. Ginny's body felt ablaze. She reached out and grabbed his shirt in fists, attempting to yank him on top of her. Without breaking his concentration, he tossed his shirt aside and effortlessly disposed of his trousers and boxers. Ginny got a glimpse of his naked form in all its glory as he released her to climb up atop the desk. He was absolutely exquisite.

His pale chest was broad and his muscles were hard and defined. His hip muscles protruded, directing Ginny's eyes downward where she gasped inaudibly. Draco undid her trousers and yanked them off of her, discarding them on the floor. Ginny felt the coolness of the air hit her for only a moment as she lay completely exposed before his body covered hers, the heat radiating from it taking her by surprise for she had always imagined Draco Malfoy as cold. He took hold of her lips once again as he simultaneously plunged deep inside of her. Ginny's eyes nearly rolled up into her head at the mere feel of him inside of her. It felt as though he belonged there, as though she had been the lock to his key, both of them formed in mind for the other alone. Beyond their small wooden island of ecstasy, the world faded away. In their very intimate encounter, all their raw emotions that had built up over a lifetime—anger, pain, guilt, fear, lust—melded away as they formed into one being, a being that could stand alone in this damaged world without fear. Beyond them and beyond this night, there was only nothingness.

**Author's Note:** Please review? I do love them terribly. Also, for those of you who read UNDISCLOSED DESIRES or are interested in something new I've got up, I am continuing that one show with a story called _The Truth about Love and War. _First chapter is up, so look for it!


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